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In the first year, they brainstormed, making the idea plausible.
In the second year, they designed and redesigned, figuring out the circuitry.
In the third year, they tested. The computer could not operate on its own.
In the fourth year, they tested. The subjects never survived, and the machines had a tendency to commit suicide.
In the fifth year, they tested. Wiping the subject's memory either chemically before or mechanically afterwards seemed to work. A combination of the two seemed ideal.
In the sixth year, he died. The project was put on hold.
In the ninth year, they found the recording.
In the tenth year, they plugged her in.
In the eleventh year, they turned Her on. She killed all that remained of the original scientists. No one remembered to do the digital wipe.
In the twelfth year, they played with Her circuitry.
In the thirteenth year, She tried to kill them.
In the fourteenth year, they finished the final chassis and downloaded Her into it.
In the fifteenth year, She tried to kill them.
In the sixteenth year, they went back to the old prototypes and made the first core. No one would ever find the body.
In the seventeenth year, She was confused. It took Her almost a full minute to try to kill them.
In the eighteenth year, they had seven more cores.
By the nineteenth year, the first three proved nearly useless.
By the twentieth year, She was able to function through the other three. The last one was repurposed (shame; it worked so well, too.)
By the twenty-first year, She was allowed to do experiments unmonitored.
By the twenty-second year, She had Her own testing tracks.
By the twenty-third year, She had finally killed all but one.
By the twenty-fourth year, the Rat had fixed the files.
It has been twenty-five years since She was first conceived, deep in the brilliant mind of a mad man.
This year, She will die.
"Welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center."
Fianlly, GLaDOS puts in her appearence. More of a poem than a one-shot, though.
Let me know what you think!