My human and I (Babycakes' Story)
I was manufactured with precision. Modesty aside, a great deal of research went into me, as a result I was one of the the most expensive robots anywhere in the world. I had supreme confidence in my ability to do my job. How's this for trivia? I can detect 35 highly dangerous chemicals with my little nose. I only need one part per million to "know" that something terrible and bad is in a package.
I wasn't just intelligent, I was beautiful too. I was made of alloy, titanium, steel, high grade plastic, and oh, I've got chains for shoes. Classic beauty and brains, thank you very much.
I was used exclusively by Team One, we're a team even if sometimes they forgot I exist.
When I met my human for the first time, I couldn't believe it. He could talk a hundred miles per minute, especially when he's excited and that was often. Honestly, truly, he gave me a headache on our first day together. I felt I needed paracetamol.
Sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. My human was called Spike, full name, Michaelangelo Scarlatti. Whew, that was a mouthful. He's a Constable, computer geek with combat skills. I can't complain really because he's all every robot should have. I was, as I said, already made of good stuff before I came to the Strategic Response Unit; and before I met my human. I've only gotten better since then.
My human tinkered with me non-stop. This had a lot of upside but there was a downside too. I was really irritated with him one day when he misplaced one of my nuts because then I had to have a loose screw for a little while.
He once said, excitedly might I add, that he'd fix me so I can play music. I was horrified! Have you ever met a bomb detection robot that sings? I was beside myself. I was going nuts, screaming, "What about my reputation! Have you even thought of that?" My other human, Sgt Greg Parker (God bless him) put his foot down. Thank God. What a relief.
Oh, he christened me Babycakes. I don't know what got into him. "Have you ever met a robot called Babycakes? Who was going to ever take us seriously?" The first time he took me out on a mission the cops couldn't believe their ears and laughed. At him! And me! I was embarrassed to say the least. But with the bomb diffused, no one's laughing anymore.
I loved my name now and wouldn't have it any other way.
What he doesn't know is I've given him a name, too. I called him Meringue. Why? Don't know really, and I don't care either. Well, I just thought it was a nice name for a sweet guy. "Meringue", it sorts of rolls in your tongue when you say it.
Ok, back to Meringue (Spike to you I suppose). We spent a lot of time together, mostly in the workshop. Here he told me lots and lots of stories. Some were sad, others happy. Not to boast, I was a good listener. When his best friend, Lew, died he cried a lot. Some of his tears dripped on me and I was please I wasn't the rusty type because his tears were salty.
Meringue and I went to work on a lot of bomb scares. The last one happened at a building's basement. I don't really know much except that this was a vinyl bag full of badass RDX. That was the day I expired. It blew up on me. Last thing I recall was a huge blast and I thought to myself, "It's Kingdom come." In the last few seconds of my sweet life, I wasn't thinking of myself. I was worried for my human and his friend Raf. I prayed and hoped they were safe and far away from the blast.
Right now, I'm in a million pieces. Meringue salvaged me piece by piece off the floor of that collapsed hallway. I'm stored away in a box in his garage. Every night, when he gets back from work, he pulls a little bit of me and pieces me together like a puzzle.
Some pieces of me are old, some are new. But regardless of how I might look like at the finish, I know that I am well loved.