perjantai 20. joulukuuta 2013

Saga of the robotic mango-man. Part 6: Time to lose that fat!

Yeah, I...gave up on my Advent calendar. Sue me. 

It was morning dewing. 

6:30 was the time in the clock. 

It was a grey morning. there was fog in the air. Cold, too.

Serial number didn`t feel it. But Ekobo Jaleina sure did.

"It`s cold!"

"We`re going to stay here until you`ve done your days share of working out. I promised you to make you fit, a month ago, when you were recovering from that gunshot wound. Now it`s time to start. Let`s start with scretches."

Serial number scretched his legs. They were telescopic, and elongegated for fife meters or so..  

"I will not try to do that." The Japanese Ekobo (who had immigrated with her family, as a child) said, amusedly.

"Oops. Let`s try something your limited human physique can do more easily, while still excerting and revitalizing you." The robot said, while showing what Ekobo was to do next, which was to scretch her legs like this.

"Quit with the big words already."

"For the 56. time, no." Said the robot. 

Both scretched.

"Okay, now for different moves."

They scretched again.

It goed on for a while. They changed poses many a time.

"Have you ever wondered why the alphabet sounds the way it does?" Asked Ekobo.

"No, but if you wish, I can." Said the more mechanic character of the story.

"Yeah, sure. Why not." 

Serial number thought about it, and his thinking process was very similar to that of a humans, because the most sofisticated computers imaginable would (most likely) think in the same kind of way as humans. He also changed poses. Ekobo made noices of pain while scretching.

"They simply have to sound like something." Said 456805345 (that`s the robotic mango mans (no, it hasn`t been explained why I call him taht, too, yet) serial number, in case you did not know, o reader).

"You`re a super intelligent robot and that`s the best answer you can come up with?" Asked Ekobo, baffled. In a slightly mocking (in a friendly way) tone of voice.

"It`s the best answer." Said poignantly, the robot.

They goed on with the scretching and talked about other things too.

Now, you can take a thinking break if you want. WHAT did they talk about? Don`t stress about whether they sound "right" or not. I`m totally cool with what you think they say. Most likely. I might even be okay if they talk about awesome boobs or poop, in a stupid way. Just think. Then continue reading, if you want.

You done now? 

Bah, I don`t care if you are or aren`t.     

"Let`s move on to exercising. I`ll play you some fitting music. "

"That doesn`t fit..." Said Ekobo.

"It was a joke. Hah hah hah hah." Said the robot.

Ekobo was creeped out by the laugh, and slightly baffled. Or really baffled. You go ahead and try to tell the difference...

Serial number changed the tune.

It was more appropriate for the situation.

They jogged.

Left foot up, while the right one`s on the ground.

Right foot up, while the left one`s on the ground.

Left foot up, while the right one`s on the ground.

Right foot up, while the left one`s on the ground.

Left foot up, while the right one`s on the ground.

Right foot up, while the left one`s on the ground.

Left foot up, while the right one`s on the ground.

Right foot up, while the left one`s on the ground.

Their wrists swinged around.

Ekobos pelvis swayed left and right. Her fatty and meaty parts, brown hair that had been rastafari`d up, body, and the tracksuit she wore, jiggled and moved in other ways. 

The pelvis of Serial number 456805345 did not. He had nothing meaty or soft in him, either, that would`ve moved. His body was stiff as as a stick (or a tick), and movements pretty much unchanging.

They jogged for fife minutes before Ekobo stopped. She took deep breaths, in a fast pace.

"Have to huf huf huf, take a breather."


After a while, they continued.

"Sucking more fat out of me would be easier." 

"It`s also more unhealthy." Said number.

"What about injecting a huf huf, Discrenalleus tobeus-virus huf huf huf, to my body?"

"Though it eats away fat, it eats too much of it, and can only be wiped away before it happens, in 42 % of the cases." Serial number pointed out.

"If only there`d be another way...huf huf...I`m not huf huf huf huf, sure if this works..."

Stomach decreasing surgery hasn`t been invented yet, in the storys universe.

"This WILL work in time. We have to rearrange your diet, too."

"I EAT vegetables." Argued Eko.

"Not enough." Counter argued Serial.

"If I have to eat them, you have to too." Joked Ekobo.

They continued to run. They did not talk for a while. The softly clanking mechano man started to wander down the memory lane, in his mind...

Next: An untold tale of the past of the robot.

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