A Robot in The Bronx, Pt.2- Information super highway
“Hey sailor…” someone said from somewhere behind him. He turned to see a frail looking woman with a hunchback smoking a cigarette. Jerky ran his visual censors up and down her grotesque body. “I am not a sailor miss. I am only a robot.” Jerky said. The woman looked him over. “I don’t care whatcha are hon. I gots a quota to meet tonight and you’re gonna help me.” With that, she straddled him. “Oh my…what is it you are doing?” Jerky stammered, as only a robot can. “You’re under arrest you perverted scumbag!” she shouted.
Jerky processed this for a moment “Incarceration?” He said “Whatever for?” “For attempted rape and soliciting sex from a prostitute…and for the possession of an illegal substance” she said while placing a bag of white powder on his chest. “I am truly sorry miss…” he said “but I cannot go to jail.” Jerky grabbed her by the ankle. “I think I will crush you into a fine powder.” Jerky then slammed her on the street several times, and finished up by stomping on her. Not wanting to be seen by the police, Jerky left as quickly as possible.
After running a few blocks, Jerky decided to take in his new surroundings. It looked pretty much the same, save the burning bus and dead police woman. “BRRRRIIINNNGG!!!” Jerky looked around. “BRRRRIINNNGG!!!” Jerky’s hand seemed to be ringing. “Hello?” he said. “Finally!” said an exasperated voice that seemed to be emanating from his wrist. It was the Professor. “Jerky…” he started “why on earth have you murdered two people in a matter of minutes? I programmed you for people relations!” “I do not know professor.” Jerky said. The professor paused for a few moments. “Hmmmm…it seems that your murder chip is activated. We need to fix that. Okay Jerky, flip that switch on your back.” Jerky flipped the switch. “That should do it.” said the professor “That will be all for now Jerky. If you need to contact me, just press that button on your wrist. If not, I'll be in contact with you.” There was a click and the screen was blank. The professor had gone.
Jerky decided that the best thing to do would be to go about the business of finding the girl. “Where to start?” he wondered. He figured the best place to start was the nearest. Jerky walked into a nearby phone booth. “Hello.” he said. “How may I be of service to a fellow machine?” the phone booth said. “I need a listing of every residential and business number in New York City. Is this possible?” “Yes.” The phone replied in monotone. “I do believe we are both of standard interfaces.” “How do we go about doing this?” said Jerky. “Take that chord sticking out of the wall and place it in your waste hole.” Jerky didn’t move “Are you sure this is the only way. As a male robot I am inclined to not like putting things the wrong way in my waste hole.” The phone was quiet. “Yes.” he said after a long pause. “’tis the only way.”
About an hour later, as Jerky sat in a robot motel sipping a hot can of oil while resting his sore waste hole and going over the number listings in his head. He decided more information was needed to go about this efficiently. He pressed the button on his wrist, immediately contacting Professor Stiffie. “Hello professor.” he said. "I would like some more information on this assignment. Where was the girl last seen?” “Actually Jerky, I got a report in not long ago from a friend of mine in New York. I asked this friend of mine to keep a lookout for the girl. He has eyes and ears all over New York so he had no trouble sighting her.” said the professor “It was at street address 1294 Walternut Lane.” “Thanks professor. I better get back to work.” The connection was closed.
Jerky walked over to the phone. “I need to connect to the city’s phone database once again.” he declared “Can you do this?” “Of course.” The phone replied. “Just put this chord…” “In my waste hole, I know the drill.” Jerky cut him off. “My heavens no!” the phone sounded alarmed “I don’t swing that way buddy. You can get your sick kicks somewhere else!” “Wait...” Jerky said dumbfounded. “Earlier today at the phone booth near the deli on Constantine avenue…” Jerky sputtered, not able to comprehend what was happening. “Ohhhhhhhh” the phone said, sounding amused. “That was probably Steve. He’s gay.” Jerky didn’t move. “Well…since I’m not gay” the phone said, probably smiling on the inside, “Just connect my wall chord directly to your brain.”
Jerky, still feeling abused, did this. Yet he still wasn’t sure if this wasn’t just some sick fetish….
Jerky processed this for a moment “Incarceration?” He said “Whatever for?” “For attempted rape and soliciting sex from a prostitute…and for the possession of an illegal substance” she said while placing a bag of white powder on his chest. “I am truly sorry miss…” he said “but I cannot go to jail.” Jerky grabbed her by the ankle. “I think I will crush you into a fine powder.” Jerky then slammed her on the street several times, and finished up by stomping on her. Not wanting to be seen by the police, Jerky left as quickly as possible.
After running a few blocks, Jerky decided to take in his new surroundings. It looked pretty much the same, save the burning bus and dead police woman. “BRRRRIIINNNGG!!!” Jerky looked around. “BRRRRIINNNGG!!!” Jerky’s hand seemed to be ringing. “Hello?” he said. “Finally!” said an exasperated voice that seemed to be emanating from his wrist. It was the Professor. “Jerky…” he started “why on earth have you murdered two people in a matter of minutes? I programmed you for people relations!” “I do not know professor.” Jerky said. The professor paused for a few moments. “Hmmmm…it seems that your murder chip is activated. We need to fix that. Okay Jerky, flip that switch on your back.” Jerky flipped the switch. “That should do it.” said the professor “That will be all for now Jerky. If you need to contact me, just press that button on your wrist. If not, I'll be in contact with you.” There was a click and the screen was blank. The professor had gone.
Jerky decided that the best thing to do would be to go about the business of finding the girl. “Where to start?” he wondered. He figured the best place to start was the nearest. Jerky walked into a nearby phone booth. “Hello.” he said. “How may I be of service to a fellow machine?” the phone booth said. “I need a listing of every residential and business number in New York City. Is this possible?” “Yes.” The phone replied in monotone. “I do believe we are both of standard interfaces.” “How do we go about doing this?” said Jerky. “Take that chord sticking out of the wall and place it in your waste hole.” Jerky didn’t move “Are you sure this is the only way. As a male robot I am inclined to not like putting things the wrong way in my waste hole.” The phone was quiet. “Yes.” he said after a long pause. “’tis the only way.”
About an hour later, as Jerky sat in a robot motel sipping a hot can of oil while resting his sore waste hole and going over the number listings in his head. He decided more information was needed to go about this efficiently. He pressed the button on his wrist, immediately contacting Professor Stiffie. “Hello professor.” he said. "I would like some more information on this assignment. Where was the girl last seen?” “Actually Jerky, I got a report in not long ago from a friend of mine in New York. I asked this friend of mine to keep a lookout for the girl. He has eyes and ears all over New York so he had no trouble sighting her.” said the professor “It was at street address 1294 Walternut Lane.” “Thanks professor. I better get back to work.” The connection was closed.
Jerky walked over to the phone. “I need to connect to the city’s phone database once again.” he declared “Can you do this?” “Of course.” The phone replied. “Just put this chord…” “In my waste hole, I know the drill.” Jerky cut him off. “My heavens no!” the phone sounded alarmed “I don’t swing that way buddy. You can get your sick kicks somewhere else!” “Wait...” Jerky said dumbfounded. “Earlier today at the phone booth near the deli on Constantine avenue…” Jerky sputtered, not able to comprehend what was happening. “Ohhhhhhhh” the phone said, sounding amused. “That was probably Steve. He’s gay.” Jerky didn’t move. “Well…since I’m not gay” the phone said, probably smiling on the inside, “Just connect my wall chord directly to your brain.”
Jerky, still feeling abused, did this. Yet he still wasn’t sure if this wasn’t just some sick fetish….