finale.

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The investigator slammed the empty whiskey glass on the counter and screamed at the top of his lungs at the ceiling.

He stared at the computer screen in distress. Loaded on the computer was the robot boys main memory chip. And those motherfuckers never bothered to check it, he thought bitterly. Never even let him take the stand in court! Couldn't say a damned thing to save himself.

The damn robot had been making a poetry book, filled with every detail of his miserable life. It was free for all of six lousy months.

The investigator had read the whole manuscript three times, from the beginning of when it started writing to the moment when he pulled the memory chip out, right before execution.

It was all there. So the boy died for a murder he committed, and for a murder he covered up. And the damn girl lied to the court to keep herself safe.

And here I am reading it at home , he frustratingly mused it himself, like I'm so much better.

But if he were honest with himself, he knew why he didn't turn it into the authorities . The boy died for it. He couldn't bring himself to turning it in. For the boy to die, not knowing that the girl he died for would be sentenced anyway.

Would've been poetic though .

The investigator turned off the laptop and sat back in his chair. So much for happily ever after. So much for a happy ending at all. The boy died for the girl he loved, and the girl got away with murder. Not quite how he remembered Romeo and Juliet.

At least they buried his parts next to the man who built him ...

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