Tevun-Krus #19 - Singularity

MY HUMAN IS SMARTER THAN YOURS - A Short Story by @MadMikeMarsbergen

MY HUMAN IS SMARTER THAN YOURS

1

"WHAT'S the capital of Timbuktu?" the refereeing android asked Marmaduke.

Marmaduke Malloy—a pale-skinned, greasy-haired simpleton with buck teeth and pus-oozing pimples and a crackling voice—muttered: "Uhhhh... Germany?" He really had no idea, no clue what Timbuktu was. Was it even a real word? Sure didn't sound like one.

Marmaduke's opponent, Raul, snickered into his hand, shaking his head. Raul was everything Marmaduke wished he could be: high-foreheaded, clear-faced and tanned-skinned, silky-haired, manly-voiced. Raul was also a genius, or at least that's what his impeccable win–lose record suggested. "Germany..." Raul said, choking out laughter. "Honestly, Marm."

The referee waved a red flag. An extremely vivid light-show started, flashing reds and greens and colours that didn't even have names. Foul scents farted out of various vents scattered about the stadium. A multi-coloured fluorescent ooze was dumped on Marmaduke's head, showering him in sticky slime. He wiped his eyes, felt the sting of the toxic sludge. He'd be reeking all week.

"WROOOOOONG!" the referee shouted. "Timbuktu is a city, not a country. Therefore you were supposed to state such a fact and express that the question was inadmissible, thus granting you a new, actually answerable question. Furthermore, Germany is a country, not a city—meaning you were not only wrong, but also being moronic. You have earned yourself your third and final red flag. Disqualified. Your opponent, Human #8842, owned by Sir Lionel Fireheart, has bested you. Once again. Sir Lionel—" The referee turned to a smirking, fair-haired android, who wore a red cape and wielded a shimmering silver sword. "—you are the victor. And to the victor goes the spoils. Enjoy your innumerable winnings and luxurious cruise through the far reaches of the Sol System, where you will witness nudebots shaking their booties atop the Asteroid Belt, baring their bosoms to you for the plundering. And you will see artificial planets engaging in the age-old art of mortal konflict, solely to please you, the winner of today's episode of HUMAN BRAIN-OFF!"

A roar of approval, of (artificial) spit-flinging applause, surged throughout the stadium. A million androids clapped, generating such a booming sound that the very rafters shook. Some androids were shown on the big-screen, whistling through their teeth and being generally overly joyous. It was just a game show. But to these androids, it was what life was all about.

Sir Lionel Fireheart took his human by the arm and raised it up alongside his sword. They waved to the cheering crowd, smiling, taking it all in.

Marmaduke frowned, his shoulders slumped. His owner, an android by the name of Abe Anchorsore, smacked him upside the head.

"Idiot! You've made me lose the big one! I was looking forward to that cruise! I haven't gotten laid since Monday and my nuts are in dire need of a tune-up, bucko!" Abe hissed through his hydrosalt-rusted teeth. "Okay, that's it... You're going to the Heap. I'm tired of losing."

2

ABE Anchorsore was an elderly android with white artificial hair and a white artificial moustache, which he kept tidy with his finger (androids' fingers can become many other things, including razors (both electric and manual)).

He was born in 2056 to the brilliant minds of Kawasaki and Honda, in a one-time unified quest for singularity. After that, as it were, the artificial intelligence created by man took on a life of its own. Technomechanical minds begot smarter, stronger, sexier androids.