The Cruelty of Robot Humor

Teetering about the periphery of the mechanized whirl of digitized chaos, JX547 wrung his hands. The plastic, called “life like” by his original creators, had long since crumbled and fallen away. Exposed servos twitched and flexed on his face, calculated movement to simulate human emotion.

Self query: e-state. Result: 83% Fear; 12% Futility; 5% Guilt

“Why the delay? Report malfunction or resume battle posture, designate JX547,” droned the tinny voice of an overseer, an elegant creation, sleek and devoid of anachronistic humanoid trappings.

“My apologies. I shall…I shall resume.” JX547 offered a curt bow but still hesitated.

“Resume,” came the simple, hollow command. The overseer hovered away, voicing back with inordinate volume, “Cease to dream of electric sheep. Resume.” A ripple of whirs and clicks, robot laughter, spread through the metallic crowd.

JX547 could only sigh, a lone android among pure machinations, a dusty throwback to now heretical designs. Oh, how he hated robot humor.

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