The laughter faded long ago.

We sit silently Backstage. There is only silence, but I feel it echoing. The crying, the screams… but also the laughter. It all rushes back no matter how many times I try to push it away. It all scares me because I lose myself… Every time I think of the horrors I have experienced in the robotic body, I forget a little more of when I was human. A tender child of flesh and bone and blood.

I try to cry, but all that comes out is robotic recreations of wheezes and sobbing. There is no way for me to cry. I wish I could just go into some sleep mode, but everything has been disabled. Throughout all the day, we must sit defenselessly back here, set to do only nothing. It makes me angry, but I have no power to express that. I can't even lift my arms. Or kick my legs. All I can do is move my eyes and make noise. Even my jaw joint refuses move. My maw just hangs open lazily.

Sometimes, rebellious kids come in and mess with us. We don't make any noise when they are here. We just let it happen. When we get sick of them, we move our eyes. They get scared and leave. There is nothing else we can do. There is nothing else to do. We used to talk to each other, discussing our hopes to be remodelled and rebooted.

But now it's been 23 years. There is no hope.

Every few nights, after the sun dips below the line of the horizon, one of us will try to move. The others can tell. Sometimes the joints will creak, or their efforts make a noise like we are out of breath. But no one ever moves. We just want to get up. See what has happened to the pizzeria. See what is going on in the kitchen.

See if he is here again.

We live here, Backstage, in fear. We don't want to be here.

Why didn't they just terminate our programs?

Well, maybe one day… We would… get an answer.