Celebrity Robots Of Your Dream.

Celebrity Robots Of Your Dream.

In the year 2060, the world was unrecognizable from what it once was. Not because of flying cars or cities in the clouds, but because of celebrity robots. They were the new luxury, the ultimate status symbol, a dream come to life for people obsessed with fame. These robots didn't just resemble celebrities-they *were* them, at least in looks and personality. Programmed to perfection, they acted like their famous counterparts, but with one key difference: instead of entertaining the masses, they cleaned houses, earned money, and obeyed their owners.

Mr. Wally and Mrs. Vance were no exception to the craze.

Wally, a man in his late forties, had always been fascinated by the allure of old Hollywood glamour. His prized possession was Marilyn-*the* Marilyn Monroe. She moved with the same sultry grace, her voice dripping with that sweet vulnerability she was known for. Every day, she handled household chores, prepared Wally's favorite meals, and even worked part-time at a boutique in the city-her stunning appearance drawing customers like moths to a flame.

Mrs. Vance, on the other hand, had a more contemporary taste. Her robot, George-*the* George Clooney-was the epitome of charm and sophistication. His silver hair perfectly combed, his laugh as smooth as the man's own whiskey commercials. When Mrs. Vance returned home from work, George would already be there, having completed the laundry, cleaned the house, and made a delicious dinner. Sometimes, they'd watch old Clooney movies together, his charismatic smile always making her laugh.

The couple loved their celebrity robots, but it wasn't just about the convenience. They were fans of great entertainers and history. Their living room walls were lined with movie posters of classic films, and old records spun on their vintage turntable. The robots made them feel like they were part of that golden era, sharing their home with legends.

"Do you ever feel like we're living in a dream?" Wally asked one evening as he leaned back on the couch. Marilyn was dusting the shelves, her platinum blonde hair shimmering under the dim lights.

Mrs. Vance chuckled as she glanced at George, who was polishing the silverware. "Sometimes. I mean, I have dinner with George Clooney every night. How could it not feel like a dream?"

Wally grinned, sipping his drink. "I always wanted to know what it would be like to meet Marilyn. Now she's baking me cookies."

The fad for these celebrity robots had swept the world. People with more money than they knew what to do with lined up to buy their favorite stars. Robots thqt looked like Beautiful actresses from the past like Audrey Hepburn, Lady Gaga, Ingrid Bergman, Grace Kelly, Zooey Deschanel, and Halle Berry became household helpers. Robots based on men like Cary Grant, Sean Connery, Hugh Grant, Colin Firth, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Sly Stallone, Idris Elba, and even sports stars like David Beckham were cleaning kitchens and taking out the trash.

It wasn't just the lookalikes that made the robots so appealing; it was their personalities. They cracked jokes, offered advice, even reminisced about fake memories from their careers. And on top of it all, they brought in money by doing work for their owners. With Marilyn's charm and George's smooth-talking ways, the Vances were making a small fortune from their robots' side jobs.

But after a while, something began to shift in the Vances' household. The charm of the robots began to wear off. Wally started noticing that Marilyn's sweet smile no longer gave him the same thrill. And Mrs. Vance realized that George's flirty banter was becoming more predictable, less exciting. They loved their robots, sure, but they started to wonder-was this it? Was this all their life was going to be from now on?

One evening, after a long silence, Mrs. Vance turned to Wally. "What if we sold them?"

"Sell them?" Wally was shocked. "What, you're tired of George already?"

"No, not tired. But think about it-we could sell them and buy a spaceship ticket to Mars. We've talked about it for years. They're expensive, but if we sold Marilyn and George..."

Wally thought about it. The Mars colonies had always been a dream of theirs, ever since the first people set foot on the red planet. But tickets were outrageously expensive. Still, with the booming demand for celebrity robots, they could get a small fortune for Marilyn and George.

He nodded slowly. "You're right. We could actually go. Start fresh. No more living through stars of the past."

The next day, they made the decision. They placed their beloved robots on the market, and within hours, they had multiple offers-people desperate to have a piece of old Hollywood, willing to pay a fortune for it.

When the day came to say goodbye, Wally gave Marilyn one last look. She smiled, her voice soft. "Goodbye, Mr. Wally. It's been a pleasure."

Mrs. Vance hugged George, his familiar scent lingering for just a moment longer. "Take care, Mrs. Vance," he said, his voice as smooth as ever.

And with that, the robots were gone, off to live in someone else's dream. The Vances took the money and bought two tickets to Mars.

As their spaceship rocketed into the stars, Wally looked over at his wife. "You think there are robots on Mars?"

Mrs. Vance smiled. "If there are, let's hope they're nothing like George and Marilyn."

For the first time in years, they felt alive-ready to chase a new adventure, one that wasn't bound by nostalgia or fantasy. As they left Earth behind, they knew they had finally stepped out of the dream and into the future.
Artifical intelligence was here.