Thursday, September 25, 2008

c. Wait…er, where am I?

“You are in bed,” the ButlerBot says, with a faint tone of long-suffering and entirely non-judgemental patience that is nevertheless pure scorn. The robot goes on to lay out a silver tray set with lovely fine bone china, made from authentic bones removed with surgical precision from the bodies of authentic Chinese people.

There is a small vase with a jonquil. There is a large deep bowl. It is full of a disgusting green slurry. This is parsley porridge.

a. Do I look like I eat peasant food, you obsolete calculator?

b. Actually, I’m allergic to porridge.

c. Er…so how did I get here?


  1. Anonymous25/9/08 22:00

    a). better show the butler bot who's mistress quicksmart, the better to send it out for gourmet pizza in the next 30 seconds.

  2. Anonymous26/9/08 03:00

    Oh! Oh! Oh! *childish glee*

    I'm very tempted to go with (a) but pissing off a giant robot seems a little dangerous. Since it seems unwilling to answer (c) I'd like to take the subtle route with (b).

  3. Anonymous26/9/08 03:22

    On second thoughts maybe living dangerously (a) is the way to go.

  4. Anonymous26/9/08 08:15

    Er.. sorry Arthur and Prudent are the same person.

  5. Anonymous26/9/08 10:20

    I'm now afraid that on a) it'll answer "yes, you do"... but a) it'll have to be anyway. ('sides, it has a good chance of getting you out from eating the porridge, too, so no allergic reactions to contend with.) :)