Vending Machine Mishap

 I watched a truck loaded with brand new humans rush past me on the freeway. As I clunked along in my boxy frame, I looked down at my phone. Another amber alert.

Small vending machine kidnapped in North Seattle from neighborhood. Last seen in tan sedan with...

Dismissing the notification to continue walking, I switched my toolbox from one stiff hand to the other. I was often jealous of humans with their perfect evolutioned bodies, but how could I have been jealous of something being imprisoned? As a mechanic I studied these creatures and put them back into their place whenever one stepped out of line.

Walmart appeared on the horizon. The day before's call was from the manager there, saying one of the humans there had begun blinking. An easy fix, really, considering all that was necessary was to take off the brain control panel and make a few subtle changes. The baby boomer model of humans was glitchy, but yet still used in grocery stores all over the country.

Approaching the store, I got ahold of the manager and found my way to this elderly human which needed fixing. Slouching with closed eyes, it groaned.

A small vending machine skittered down the aisle, almost knocking over my toolbox. Standing in front of another human, it pushed a coin into a nostril and tapped its face in a rhythmic pattern. A bag of chips came from its mouth.

I took my screwdriver and took out the metal plate on the back of this humans skull. It slouched further at the pressing of the "off" button. To my surprise, though, it sprang right back up without any further manipulation. Pressing the same button once more, I awaited a response. Nothing.

"How's it going there, Bill?" the manager exclaimed behind me.

"Strange, it doesn't seem to be powering off," I answered.

The manager tilted his head and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped.

While ripping out some wires with pliers, I frantically searched for an answer. The human slowly started shaking. Falling to the floor, it seized terrifyingly and simultaneously began throwing up. I shook the puke off my shoes and kicked its side.

"Bill, what's wrong with it?"

"I don't know . . . I don't know!"

The manager screeched as the human rose to its feet and started pounding down the aisle, slipping on vomit. The same small vending machine from before was spotted, and now became its new target. I didn't move, I didn't twitch, I didn't blink. The manager ran from my sight and another vending machine down the aisle screamed.

Red lights overtook the building, an ear-piercing alarm blaring.

Over the loudspeaker, a monotone announcement began, "This is a code red. Everyone evacuate the building. I repeat this is a code red,"

Taking off, I rattled myself down the aisle towards the human. Vending machines surrounded me, panicked, running around. I slammed myself into the walking human, throwing it to the ground along with a tall vending machine. The human gripped my arm with its hand, trying to stand. I threw my fist into its face, crashing it back onto the linoleum floor. Slipping out of my grasp, the human disappeared into the crowd and into the aisles.

Getting thrown back to the ground by a passing vending machine, my head hit the ground and everything blurred for just a moment. I opened my eyes, seeing four vending machines with "SECURITY" printed on their backs tackle the human. One of them smashed a hammer over its head, sending blood to fly everywhere. Police swarmed the building, handcuffing the dead monster to take away. I heard faint voices.

"Are you ok?" one said.

"That guy is going to the junkyard. Some rando will sure want to make use of it," another stated.

"Where are the paramedics?"

"This mechanic here needs some help!"

I rolled over onto my back. A policemachine loomed over me and asked questions. What did you do today? What happened? Are you injured? And more.

"I guess you can't fix them all," I blubbered.