The Greatest Story Ever Told, Part 2
Kevin sat hunched on a stool in his tiny houseboat, (which was more of a shack on a raft than a house of any sort) his electric eyes locked onto a tiny, blinking television screen. His concentration was torn away from the bright image for a moment as he reached for a small container of fish food, and sprinkled it down into his throat. His metal jaw clanked repeatedly, as though smacking his lips, and then all was done, eyes again back on the TeeVee.
For you see, in the iron belly of this mechanical man was a fish, swimming about in quiet contentment. There was nothing extraodrinary or special about this fish, it was simply your standard goldfish that you might win at a local fair. It had gone pale due to lack of sunlight, but it was alive and in good health.
No, the intriguing aspect of this pair was the computer system that monitored the fish's actions. It took the simple thoughts, subtle movements, and vacant stares the fish gave and calculated them into complex variables and equations, which were translated by Kevin the robot, into human-like emotions and actions.
The result, his creators had found, was a robot with an obssesion of water. He was also skilled at hunting ghosts, but that had not led anywhere in the time with the scientists, so they gave him the boot and he was on his own, which brings us to his current situation, a known associate of the city's mobs, gangsters, and mafia, which were, trust me, all seperate things.
A tiny, multi-colored telephone with a smiley face and light-bulb nose rang, and Kevin answered.
"Yeeah, this's Itches up et Warehouse fwaty too. The Bo-...The Knuckler's got a job he wants ya ta take care a', if ya knows whats I mean. Yeah, you knows whats I mean."
Kevin confirmed with a steel "yes" and hung up the phone. With a click the television was off, and with a thicker, much more wooden click, the tiny hut was empty.
For you see, in the iron belly of this mechanical man was a fish, swimming about in quiet contentment. There was nothing extraodrinary or special about this fish, it was simply your standard goldfish that you might win at a local fair. It had gone pale due to lack of sunlight, but it was alive and in good health.
No, the intriguing aspect of this pair was the computer system that monitored the fish's actions. It took the simple thoughts, subtle movements, and vacant stares the fish gave and calculated them into complex variables and equations, which were translated by Kevin the robot, into human-like emotions and actions.
The result, his creators had found, was a robot with an obssesion of water. He was also skilled at hunting ghosts, but that had not led anywhere in the time with the scientists, so they gave him the boot and he was on his own, which brings us to his current situation, a known associate of the city's mobs, gangsters, and mafia, which were, trust me, all seperate things.
A tiny, multi-colored telephone with a smiley face and light-bulb nose rang, and Kevin answered.
"Yeeah, this's Itches up et Warehouse fwaty too. The Bo-...The Knuckler's got a job he wants ya ta take care a', if ya knows whats I mean. Yeah, you knows whats I mean."
Kevin confirmed with a steel "yes" and hung up the phone. With a click the television was off, and with a thicker, much more wooden click, the tiny hut was empty.