Banyan Bradford
OK, when we left off in your story, you were leaving the to join "the robot side." Tell us about that.
Well, I had left the refugee camp and was walking on the road. Night was falling and I was exhausted, on the verge of collapse.
Sounds intense. How long had you been walking?
A couple hours.
That's it?
Well, I had just spent an entire day locked in a pillory. That's very tiring. I definitely should have taken a nap before I hit the road. Maybe changed my pants, too, now that I think about it.
Well, you'll know for next time.
I guess. Anyway, just when it felt like I couldn't take another step, I looked up... and I saw it!
What?
A sign!
Like a religious sign?
No, like a regular sign. A billboard. It showed a good-looking ethnically ambiguous man and a great-looking ethnically ambiguous woman with a hefty helping of cleavage. They both had their arms around a robot. They were smiling like, "Check out this robot! He's pretty cool!" and the robot... well, it couldn't actually smile, but its body language said, "I'm just chillin' with my human homies!"
And there was a slogan. Team Shirlé: Let's do this!
Catchy!
And I knew right then, I needed to follow the light.
Like a godly light?
No, like a regular light. A searchlight. A few of them, actually, pointed at a building in the distance. As I got closer, I saw that it was an office building. Everything around it had been reduced to rubble, but it was completely intact.
I went inside, but I didn't see anybody. Just a large lobby made of marble. There was an unattended security desk. Behind it was a sign instructing applicants to go to the top floor and ask for Nancy.
That was it?
There was also a smaller sign saying they didn't validate parking.
Typical.
I stepped into the elevator. An all-cello version of "Eye of The Tiger" played as I was whisked to the top floor. And I couldn't help but feel like everything was finally turning around for me.
At the reception area, I saw a woman behind a desk. She was wearing a headset. She looked like she had gotten her first secretarial job in the '60s and hadn't changed her hair style or her clothes since. She looked like someone had held her upside down and dipped her head in a bucket of varnish. But in a good way!
"I'm looking for Nancy," I said.
"Well, you found me!" She gave me a big, warm friendly smile. And I swear, I could have burst into tears right then and there.
Why?
Because I couldn't remember the last time anyone had smiled at me. Except when they were pelting me with stuff. But Nancy couldn't have been more welcoming.
That's sweet.
I told her that I was looking to join the robots and dance a jig on humanity's grave.
That's... less sweet.
Nancy said, "Wonderful!" And then that smile again. Like a hot chocolate hug from Mom. "So I'll need you to fill this out." She held out an iPad. And she turned it on!
Holy shit!
I know! I screamed and hit the floor!
But Nancy was all, "Relax, you're safe here. I mean, do you really think Shirlé would allow her own recruits to be vaporized?" She laughed - her laugh was like Christmas bells that smelled of freshly baked cookies - and I laughed right along with her as I got to my feet. "That's weeks, maybe even months away!" She winked and I took the iPad from her and took a seat on the couch.
She said, "Let me know if you have any questions."
"What's this?" I showed her the screen.
"It's your User Agreement. Read it carefully."
I hate those things!
Me, too. I started reading it, but there was all this boring legal mumbo jumbo that seemed to go on forever. So I just said, screw it, pressed "Agree" and moved on.
The questions were very straightforward. Basic personal information. They wanted my Social Security number for some reason, but I figured at this point identity theft was the least of my worries. Like anyone would want my identity anyway.
Then there was an opinion survey. I was supposed to rate, on a scale of one to ten - ten being the best - how I felt about:
...humanity. 1
...robots. 10
...being on a winning team. 10
...wasting your life. 1
...being appreciated. 10
...bowing to robot overlords. 10
...killing other humans. 8 (I realized that made me sound a little wishy-washy, so I changed it to 10.)
...strawberry jelly. 4
What do you have against strawberry jelly?
I don't know. Just not a fan. Anyway, it was stuff like that and when I was done, I handed the iPad back to Nancy. She tapped it a few times and got the test results. "Wonderful!"
"So I'm in?"
"Congratulations!" The sound of her voice was like getting a full-body massage in a field of daisies.
I can't even explain how good it felt. To finally belong again.
Then her phone rang. She answered it, said, "Yes, right away" and hung up.
She said, "Suresh would like to meet you."
Suresh? The marketing guy?
Yeah. He was in charge of the recruitment process.
I should have guessed.
He was really excited to meet me.
He knew you from the video?
Yeah. He said it was a fascinating case study of the online lynch mob mentality and that it was great to have the opportunity to actually meet me in person.
Then he gave me a quick explanation about how the Robot War wasn't Robots versus Humans, but Robots versus Robots. And he thought it was time for humans to pick a side and end this war.
Did he mention his plan could potentially wipe out every human being on earth?
He did.
And what did you say to that?
"Where do I sign up?"
Although it turned out I had already signed up when I accepted the User Agreement.
So fucking sneaky.
But then Suresh told me that he was very sorry, but he was passing.
He didn't want you? Why?
Why do you think? Because I'm the asshole who punched that little girl in the face!
So... what? He thought you weren't good enough to be a traitor!
That's what I said! But he told me that it wasn't about being "good enough." Hell, based on my test scores, I was exceptionally qualified to betray my fellow humans. My levels of anger and resentment were off the charts! I should have been Traitor of the God Damned Year!
But that wasn't enough. See, he was trying to build a particular brand of traitor.
Oh, Jesus.
He said, "I want people to think of us as the cool traitors. The traitors with heart. The traitors you'd want to have a beer and/or sleep with. If people found out that the asshole who punched that little girl in the face was on Team Shirlé, nobody would want to join!"
That does make a perverse kind of sense.
No, it doesn't! It's bullshit! Everybody's got the wrong impression of me! I am not who they think I am!
Did you say that to Suresh?
Yeah. And he said, "You sound just like the robots. So concerned about reality." Then he sort of chuckled.
At that point, I just went apeshit. I leapt over the table and wrapped my hands around his throat!
Holy crap! Seriously? I mean, I wanted to strangle Suresh, too, but I didn't actually do it!
I was so fucking tired of everyone treating me like this violent sociopath! So I started choking the life out of him!
That was kind of a mixed message, don't you think?
I didn't care. I yelled at him, "Are you concerned about reality now?!"
And what did he say?
Gurgle. Gurgle. Ack! Gurgle. Stop! Ack! Gurgle. Arrrrrrgh. And then he went quiet.
You killed Suresh?
Um... kind of. Yeah.
So what did you do next?
I walked out of the office, said goodbye to Nancy and went back to the refugee camp.
Did you tell them what happened?
I did.
And...?
Now they're calling me, "The guy who choked that marketing asshole."
So your life has gotten a lot better.
It's been a good week.