User:Frosty/WIP/Why?:Are giant robots chasing me through the street?
Acacia Lane is such a peaceful place. Everyone keeps their front lawn in perfect shape, the kids all sing in the church choir (except that dumb kid everybody hates) and sell lemonade after church to save for college. Everything is peaceful and perfect, just the ay things should be.
When suddenly, two large silver robots materialize at the opposite end of the street, at first silence, followed by a suddenly explosion of movement, the robots appear to be... running after me!
Why, in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus H. Christ, Are giant robots chasing me through the street?
The situation[edit | edit source]
February is charity month here in our parish. Last year we had a splendid pancake sale, with the proceedings going to some poor Nigerian fellow. Every neighbor with decent Christian values ate pancakes that month until they suffered a liver failure. That's pretty dangerous; a human can only survive up to 24 hours without liver function. I can know that, I'm a doctor. Only that dumb kid didn't participate in the festivities. Apparently he's got an especially nasty dairy allergy. That's what you get for not going to church every Sunday.
This year, however, the church committee decided to tackle the growing cholesterol problem in our community. “Fat people don’t make it to heaven” is what the vicar always said. They decided to organize a charity marathon for the loyal God fearing husbands of our parish. I, being a doctor in perfect shape, was sure to win the race.
So, here I am, leading the race in the last straight line. I can already see the finish line at the end of Acacia Lane. Hey look, there’s a brass band ready to play for me, the definite winner of this race! As I look behind to laugh at the puny competition, however, they seem to be getting closer. What’s more, they’re looking surprisingly metallic.
“HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK ARE YOU SHITTING ME”[edit | edit source]
Sorry God, shouldn’t have said that. There’s probably some good reason for sending a bunch of giant murderous robots after me. Anyway, I’m not losing this race to some walking chrome covered toasters. No way those mechanical beings are going to get that brass band. I’ve always wanted to have a brass band play in my honor!
So they got the brass band…[edit | edit source]
My dreams are shattered. The robots got to the finish line before me. How fitting for steel monsters to get a brass band and a gold medal. It’s all about metal these days, isn’t it.
What did we learn from this story?[edit | edit source]
We don’t yet know who built those machines, but they were pretty cocky, showing off their medals and all. This makes that dumb, allergic kid the biggest suspect. He’s pretty cocky himself, never showing up on church barbeques because he thinks he’s so great. His parents – probably communists, Jews or both – blame his bowel cancer treatment, but we know better. So remember, never trust dumb, allergic kids. They may send killer robots after you if you refuse to treat them for pneumonia.