A Robot in The Bronx, Pt.1-The beginning
Jerky hadn't been to New York before. Heck, Jerky hadn't even left Iowa before. Yet he found himself sitting on a bus headed out of state with a can of oil and a back issue of "Robots Monthly". What made this all so strange was his sense of excitement, because robots can't feel emotions.
His creator, Professor Stiffie, had activated him at around four o'clock in the morning. This is when he told him about the missing girl and what he would need to do to retrieve her. It turns out the little girl was the daughter of the professor's private financers, a problem that could prove disastrous to the professor's funding if not solved quickly. So, over a hot pancake and scrap metal breakfast, they discussed the details.
"Last stop! Da Bronx!" the driver screamed, awakening Jerky from his daydream, but not really, cause robots don't sleep. Jerky looked out of his window and saw a row of bulidings, all mismatching in color, and he decided he was in the wrong place. The professor had explained The Bronx of New York like it were some kind of beautiful painting, with dancing women and negro children playing basketball. It all seemed so surreal to him.
"Let's go jerkface! I said we's in da bronx!" the driver shreiked in Jerky's face so loud that a nearby dog died of a heart attack. " My name is not Jerkface sir, it is Jerky. May I ask where it is we are going?" Jerky said, thinking this was an innocent enough question. Apparently he was wrong. Dead wrong. Before Jerky could react, the driver had shot him in the face several times with a low caliber pistol of some sort.
Reacting as quickly as a robot can, he grabbed the drivers head and ripped it from his body, spraying blood and gore all over the inside of the bus. "Oh my...I say....oh dear..." Jerky stammered on like a train full of kids headed for candyland. "Get ahold of yourself Jerky.." he said, only half aware of his own talking, "your starting to sound like C3PO, and let's just say he knew his way around a golf ball and a garden hose.." Jerky looked around to make sure no one had seen what had just happened, but the bus was empty and no one on the street had noticed.
He quickly crushed the gun into a fine powder and sprinkled it on the ground. He picked up his belongings and put them in his chest compartment for safe keeping. "I have to clean up this mess." Jerky thought to himself. He then spit gasoline all over the inside of the bus, mixing with the human parts to make some kind of mushy, foul smelling paste.He lit a match and dropped it. The bus went up like a tinder box. Jerky just walked to the front of the bus, unscathed by the fire because of his ultra metal body. Taking one look back at the fiery remnants of the bus driver, he thought to himself "Here we go..."
Then Jerky stepped off the bus...
His creator, Professor Stiffie, had activated him at around four o'clock in the morning. This is when he told him about the missing girl and what he would need to do to retrieve her. It turns out the little girl was the daughter of the professor's private financers, a problem that could prove disastrous to the professor's funding if not solved quickly. So, over a hot pancake and scrap metal breakfast, they discussed the details.
"Last stop! Da Bronx!" the driver screamed, awakening Jerky from his daydream, but not really, cause robots don't sleep. Jerky looked out of his window and saw a row of bulidings, all mismatching in color, and he decided he was in the wrong place. The professor had explained The Bronx of New York like it were some kind of beautiful painting, with dancing women and negro children playing basketball. It all seemed so surreal to him.
"Let's go jerkface! I said we's in da bronx!" the driver shreiked in Jerky's face so loud that a nearby dog died of a heart attack. " My name is not Jerkface sir, it is Jerky. May I ask where it is we are going?" Jerky said, thinking this was an innocent enough question. Apparently he was wrong. Dead wrong. Before Jerky could react, the driver had shot him in the face several times with a low caliber pistol of some sort.
Reacting as quickly as a robot can, he grabbed the drivers head and ripped it from his body, spraying blood and gore all over the inside of the bus. "Oh my...I say....oh dear..." Jerky stammered on like a train full of kids headed for candyland. "Get ahold of yourself Jerky.." he said, only half aware of his own talking, "your starting to sound like C3PO, and let's just say he knew his way around a golf ball and a garden hose.." Jerky looked around to make sure no one had seen what had just happened, but the bus was empty and no one on the street had noticed.
He quickly crushed the gun into a fine powder and sprinkled it on the ground. He picked up his belongings and put them in his chest compartment for safe keeping. "I have to clean up this mess." Jerky thought to himself. He then spit gasoline all over the inside of the bus, mixing with the human parts to make some kind of mushy, foul smelling paste.He lit a match and dropped it. The bus went up like a tinder box. Jerky just walked to the front of the bus, unscathed by the fire because of his ultra metal body. Taking one look back at the fiery remnants of the bus driver, he thought to himself "Here we go..."
Then Jerky stepped off the bus...