Briefly: I do not own the Matrix and stuff. I got the main idea for this ficlet from one of my crazy chats with my good friend EmyLyii. I finally decided to write this down mainly because it freaked her out so.
Silence slowly crept back as the last of the echoes subsided. Shattered pieces of green ceramic tiles, chiseled violently from the wall, lay indifferently on the floor.
A thin tendril of smoke rising lazily from the barrel of his .50 Desert Eagle, Smith observed the cadaver of his latest kill. Apparently, he had caught this one unprepared and with his pants down, literally.
Sprawled next to the porcelain toilet bowl was the hacker (and would-be rebel). His eyes were open, pupils dilated, with shock still clearly written in them.
Ceramics shards cracking under the heels of his leather shoes, Smith stepped closer to the body. As hard as Smith racked his memory banks, he could not recall ever seeing a naked human body.
Slowly, from behind the dark lenses, Smith's eyes scanned the dead youth. They hung on his lifeless feet for a while, as Smith studied the shape of his toes.
Then Smith's gaze traveled north, stopping momentarily at the knees, and continuing onwards, past the thighs and...
Suddenly, it struck Smith.
Sitting in his little 'throne' room, The Architect observed the artificial world he had created via the multitude of screens covering the walls. All was alright with the world. It was perfect. The thought of that brought an arrogant smirk to his face.
But wait. The Architect sat upright in his seat as his gaze caught something that just wasn't quite right. It was exactly at that moment that Smith burst into his sanctum.
"What do you want, Smith?" The Architect's programming generated an accurate tone of annoyance in his voice. "Don't you know that I'm not to be disturbed, or is deletion in order?"
"You!! You didn't complete me! I'm IMPERFECT!!" Smith hissed through gritted teeth.
"What are you ranting about, you imbecile? Do not waste my time."
"My anatomy! It isn't complete! Why? Why isn't it complete!?"
"Is this matter too complicated for you?" The Architect said; a measure of contempt etched into his face. "You don't need it."
"What do you mean I don't need it?!" Smith's face was twisted with a mixture of confusion and rage.
The Architect sighed, frustrated. "Aside from the additional weight, the worthless member will cause unnecessary drag. It's not very aerodynamic; ergo, not at all conducive for all the aerobatics I programmed you for."
"Finally, it is weak point in the male anatomy. Earlier agent models programmed with it had a tendency to keel over in a fetal position after receiving damage in the aforementioned location." The Architect paused to allow the agent to process the information. "Do you comprehend?"
"I see." Smith said, somewhat defeated. The Architect had a point, sacrificing accuracy for functionality. "But tell me, what purpose does it serve on humans?"
Making a mental note to program the next batch of agents with some anatomical knowledge, he answered, "Quite simply, the male penis is used for reproduction, a function I don't believe you'll need, ergo..."
"Reproduction?!!"
"How did I program something so idiotic?!" The Architect ranted. "YES! The penis is for reproduction!!"
"You fool! I was talking about toes!"