READ BELOW TO SEE HOW THE STORY ENDS! I'M NOT FINISHING THIS ONE! LIKE, AT ALL!
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Commentary: Sunday , November 13 , 2005: HOW THE STORY ENDS In the third installment, the girl goes back to order some more--specifically, a box of a dozen. The lady behind the counter gives her some crap about it, mentioning the possibility of becoming a fatass from eating that many donuts. The girl goes back and things to herself, revealing that she is in fact a robot. A passage from my short story rough draft, from which I based this comic (skip that if you don't give a shit, I say more after that): They were good. I decided right there that I love coffee and donuts and went back to the counter to get some more. This time I ordered a box of a dozen assorted pastries. The lady behind the counter said, "if you keep eating like that you won't be the skinny little thing you are right now for very long." I was surprised that she said something like that. I was under the impression (the correct one, as it turned out) that comments on one's weight were typically unwelcome. Still, I politely told her, "Nah, I eat like this all the time and I don't gain anything. Sometimes I kinda wish I could though." "Ha! Lucky is what I'd call you", she said. "I wish *I* could get away with eating a dozen donuts like that." I of course couldn't tell her the truth, that as a robot I would be storing that energy as charged batteries and not as fat. The scientists told me I should never give away that fact (the robot fact, not the "I don't get fat" fact). Doctor Gary claimed that regular people just "aren't ready for you yet". I could only assume that this was true since I was obviously the only sentient piece of electronics around as far as I could tell. I tried to imagine what the hag would have done if I had told her. "Naw, I'm a robot. Robots don't get fat. See?" Here I would show her the electronics under the cover on my belly. "Aiee!", she would screech, and then everybody in the shop (which wasn't operating at peak then but still had a significant amount of people in it) would turn, gazing upon the exposed circuitry. All of them, yelling out of fear, would bolt out of the door, leaving me and my donuts to ourselves. I chuckled lightly at the idea of me causing such a panic. Oddly enough, laughter was one of the first things they programmed after I gained basic sentience. When I first tried laughing it sounded harsh, very unnatural. By now, though, I sounded fairly normal. Done with my second coffee, I took my seven remaining donuts and left. She goes out and does some more exploring (I have a few places in mind, but it's really not too important), she ends up in a bar. Even though I think the drawings make her look about fifteen, he does in fact pass as an adult human in my story (albeit a young one). A man starts talking to her, and he's a pretty nice guy, surprisingly not-creepy for a bar scene. Eventually, it becomes apparent to the robot that this man is physically attracted to her and would be interested in an extended relationship. The robot feels similar feelings, if that makes sense for a robot. So she faces a dilemma. Does she tell him she's a robot, even though the dude would probably freak out? Or does she give him some sort of bullshit? Or, does she lead him on? Questions, questions... She tells him, much like she wanted to tell the bitch lady in the donut shop. He's surprisingly okay with it--probably too stunned to react, or maybe he believes he's just high. I just have a general feeling that at least certain types of people just don't freak out when something is that crazy. She leaves, and gets picked up by the scientists that dumped her off in the beginning of the story. ThEnD. Good story? What do you think? --Josh |
Page last updated July 28, 2005. Wholesome Coolness was originally hosted on Comic Genesis, a free webhosting and site automation service for web comics. That, my friends, rocks out hard.