Title: A Day in
the Life of a JackBot
Author: DarkPhoenixBC
Rating:
standard: PG; K+; pl: 10
Summary: Who cares how a
robot feels?
Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown,
and my robots all have unique names and get days off. And
dental plan. And they all come to the company picnic and play
baseball with their sons. And we do not discriminate. Anyway, no
suing me, even though I write pointless rambling disclaimers. It's
tempting, I know...
Notes: I have NO idea what inspired
this. Must have come out of Nowhere. I haven't bothered to see if
this has been done before, so if it has just know that I didn't
steal anyone's idea. I swear.
Created: Friday, 9-16-005; 12:15 AM; Completed: Friday, 9-16-05; 12:27AM; Revised: October 6, 2005, 12:31AM
A Day in the Life of a JackBot
My name is JackBot 13766-523-299856-4339.
A dull, unassuming name. It doesn't tell you very much about me, does it?
I wish I had a more interesting name, like Stanley or Adolf or Fitzroy. Even "Joe" would be kind of cool. But no, I didn't get to choose my name, and now I'm stuck with it, because my programming doesn't allow for name-changes, no matter what state I'm in.
Who cares though, right? It's not like I have free will or anything. I mean, it's not like a robot has feelings. I'm just one of a seemingly infinite number of identical manmade creations. I look exactly like all my brothers and sisters, and technically we have the same mind as well. Probability indicates that at least 84.637 of them are thinking the exact same thing as me right this second.
So much for individuality.
Now if you think my name is bad, let me tell you about my job. Like my appearance, it's the same as all my siblings. Our job is stay quietly locked up in the nether-world until we are summoned at random by the phrase "JackBots, attack!" Then we appear out of Nowhere (literally) and attack whatever doesn't seem to be on our creator's side.
However, the dice of fate are loaded. Because no matter how well we fight, or how many updates our combat programming gets, the results are almost always the same. We get smashed.
Or as JackBot 27188-373-093788-0042 liked to say, "SHMACKED!".
Sometimes I think we're not made to fight, we're made simply to create an obligatory amount of non-biological carnage before life's unspoiled plotline can go on.
But no one really cares. Not our creator; he doesn't even bother to learn our names. He uses a random-number generator and then ignores us. His allies don't really care either; they hardly know we exist. And our would-be enemies? They're too busy ripping us to pieces three seconds after they meet us to really get to know us.
An encounter might go something like this:
JackBot: Hello, I am JackBot 12345-0...
Opponent: GrrrrAH!shmacks
JackBot: blown to bits
Not exactly what you might call "civilized conversation", is it?
JackBot 84726-004-320937-1238 once tried to rally some interest in Bot's Rights. He and a few others banded together and were all ready to stage a protest, when that inexorable call, "JackBots, attack!" came, and since they were the most ready to leave, they were the first ones out. Needless to say, they live on in our memory, and in the parts of them that were recycled. Because a certain "evil boy genius" can't be arsed to get himself a real job and buy new parts.
Anyway, since that incident, no one's really bothered about it.
But I know we're all pretty upset, one way or the other.
It's frustrating, you know, when you're just handed a job, without taking an interest inventory or anything. No one knows that maybe rather than fighting, perhaps I'd like to be out in the sun gardening. Or maybe I'd like to take up hair-styling. Or perhaps there's a chance I'd make a good attorney. Who knows? I've never had the chance to find out.
And much as I'd like to go one telling you about my morbid situation, I'm afraid that very soon there will...
"JACKBOTS! ATTACK!"
Crap.
Word count: 556
"no matter what state I'm in"
State laws regarding name-change procedure varies. If you're like me, you get to know that pretty quickly.