The matrix exploded...ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!: Architect vs Oracle.

To you readers, this is not a drill, this is the matrix in like 28 days later...(after the war)

Chapter 1: 118, 118! 118, 118!

The architect was in great distress, the pizza delivery guy had been run over on his way to deliver his Chinese takeaway, his mother had become obsessed with daytime television, and had taken his multiple telivised room as her bedroom for the rest of her life, but the worst thing of all, was the 'hungry apples' preschool ball, and he had told them he was married, and he had had a divorce over 3 anomalies ago...

'NYA! NOOOOOOOO! ARGH!!!!!!!!', he shouted at the ceiling, he did this a lot since he had no-one else to shout at. He had to find a wife in three days, and no-one had returned his binary-mails. He sat on the floor and ate an apple. He wasn't hungry, not that made any difference, since he was a program, but he was angry, and annoyed, and bored, and annoyed. He then stood up, and felt miserable standing up, so he sat down again. It went on like this for hours, and hours, untill he realised that he'd been sat there for a week. 'YAY! NYA-HA!' he jumped up and then suddenly became very miserable again. He just realised the ball had passed, but he was the janitor, and had the only set of keys to the building, and all the people will have stood outside for hours, and hours, and then passed out from thirst for hours, and hours, and then continued passing out from hunger for hours, and hours, and then died...'NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!It's all my fault, because I was so miserable, and, and, NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!.'

There was a sudden noise from the computer in the next room;'you've got mail!' He scrambled into the room and looked at the screen, the message said:'Hello, hello, oh, you're wasting my time, TIME WASTERS! Oh, this is an E-mail, of course it is, I knew, like I know everything else. Hello...do you want to say something apart from 10010101000100010000000011010001001000010001000?', for the architect was typing binary into the computer. 'Hello, well, if you do, send me a descent E-mail at: Oracle. Ok, bye'.

The architect sat by the computer for a while, thinking how he could possibly speak in anything in another language than binary, perhaps HTML, no, he thought, I must write in-'WAIT A MINUTE!' he shouted.

'I'm sorry dear, but I can't wait, it's Coronation street, it is', his mother replied.

'Wasn't talking to you mom, you go and watch it, I was thinking.....out loud'. The oracle, he thought, she can read binary well enough, but if I want a wife for next year's ball...I must write in English, the thought making him wince. He knew he couldn't write in English himself, so he picked up the phone and dialled: 118, 118!

'Hello, 118, 118 services'

'Yes, I, in my impertinent way, would inquire the temporary aquirement of a linguist in both English and binary.'

'Erm, in English...'

'Yes, that's right, English...'

' No, I mean talk in simple terms...'

'OK, I cannot, in any...Nya!!!' He tried to force a non Jargon word out, but it was like trying to poo with constipation.'I can't!'

'Yeah, I'm going to hang up now...'

'No! I'm trying...'

'Hanging up...'

'NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!' The line went dead.'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.' He sat and felt sorry for himself, untill he came up with a genius new plan.

'Mum...'

'Yes dear'

'I need help...'

'You're not having another baby, are you deary?'

'No, mum, it's not another baby...'

'Well then what is it, I don't have all day, it's Eastenders soon...'

'I won't be long...'

'And it's not another fashion crisis, is it?'

'No, at least I don't think so'.

'Ok, what is it'

'Erm, I need help with talking English.'

'Why is it this time?'

'I need a wife'.

'It'll pass...'

'NO! I need one, for charity...'

'The hungry apples, again???'

'Yep!'

'Well, don't worry, I'll help you...', she came in, 'Who are you after this time???'

'The oracle'.

'Oh! Her again! Don't tell me she's been prank calling you agian!'

'How dare you! I am descent enough, Ok, my age is a put off, and the wrinkles don't help, but who cares, my intelligence makes up for it.'

'Yeah right!'

'Hey, you're supposed to be the helpful, English translating, mother...'

'Is that the only role you see me in?!?'

'Erm, yeah!'

'Well then...write your own E-mails!'She stormed out zimoframe trailing behind her.

'Not again, MUM!'

'No! I will not be used by hormonial 60 somethings! Go find your own translator!'

'Please...come on hel me. Help me. HELP ME!!!' He slumped down onto the floor, then stood up again, and sat back in the computer chair. 'Right,' he muttered. 'This can't be thet hard...'

The oracle was sat at the computer again. She felt entirely bemused.

:Every time I try and get a date, they waste my time. Fancy not calling for days at a time, or even E-Mailing. That doesn't take much effort.

It had been 7 weeks since she had last contacted the archidude:or so he calls himself, Swedish my-

ORACLE!!!'Satii ran in.

Yes Satii.'

'Oracle, pastry looks funny.'

'I told you honey, it's the cookbooks fault, it ain't mine...'

'But Oracle, have I gotta eat that...'

'What else are you planning to eat?'

'Cookies!'

'I'm sorry Satii, but the bad men took Oracles 'cakey delights' recipe book.

:The greedy American-

'But Oracle...'

'Satii, please go, Oracle has internet dating to do, and your daddy ain't sueing me 'cause you see internet dating. It'll give you nightmares...'

'No! Oracle save me from the nightmares...'

'I will honey, I will...Now run along!' Satii ran out again, and by the sounds of it was trying to repair the pastries. The Oracle sighed. Too long had it been since she could make descent pastries. She then heard a noise from the computer.

:Could this be him!

She looked at the screen.

:Not more junk mail!!!

She sighed. Too long had it been since she could install a descent firewall. It was then that she had the terrible thought...