And another collab between me and austalopith, though this one is mostly mine - but he created the Lazy Phone.
Miranda Hartford is the consummate businesswoman - ambitious, disciplined, perfectionist and strict. She is also a gynoid - a woman-shaped PDA to David Monday, a freelance artist, whom she managed to pull out of schlubbiness - and her ambitions don’t end with that. After a couple of hassles, they seem to have reached an... understanding - but hey, Miranda is the one that makes the rules.
David’s friend, Perry Green also owns a fembot. Rather than adopt a pocketsized, up-to-date cell phone like most people, Perry has chosen to stick with his old-fashioned life-sized fembot model. True: there are advantages to having a cheerful, laid-back hippie girl on hand. But her apps are hard to access, she tends to boss Perry around–and for a phone, she smokes an awful lot of weed.
These two very different robot women so far only have had fleeting contacts. It’s about to change.
The door to the new apartment opened wide, and Miranda Hartford, a tall, fierce woman in a business suit barged in.
“Hey, honey, I’m back!”, she called, taking her suit jacket off.
“I’m in the studio! Working!”, her boyfriend/owner/partner/occasional slave answered. Miranda smiled proudly to herself and walked in.
“I’m exhausted.” She slumped down in an armchair, her back on one armrest, while her legs on the other, and took her killer platform shoes off, trying to bend her feet - accompanied by a silent whirr of servos. “Here’s an idea for an epic painting for you, a brave, gorgeous, redheaded Valkyrie fighting the two-headed dragon of IRS and banks.”
David laughed from over his work station. “I’m nearly done. I did the three sample sketches for SSX and sent them, but I’m working on the logo for our studio. I’m not that used to vector software.”
“Oh, so you actually finished work for today?”, she smiled gently at him. “Give me a moment to rest, I’ll make us a cup of coffee.”
As an advanced android PDA, Miranda hardly ever ate and drank. She occasionally enjoyed some hard drinks, but most of time she was fairly austere in her diet. However, as she herself said, eating was a social function and she did enjoy these.
“A moment to rest? That’s not the Miranda I know.”, he quipped, not even facing her. “Was it that bad?”
She just groaned. “I had been waiting for about forty minutes in a line at the bank and I got bored. I asked the man behind me to mind my place, and I went outside to buy something to read… And guess what?”
“I’m too afraid to ask.”
“He didn’t want to let me back in! I tried to persuade him, but he threatened to call security. I had to go back and wait at the end again!”, she complained. “You know what I did then? Bought another mag, because I just knew I’d be waiting for at least two hours. God, and Cosmo is such dreck these days.”
He looked with satisfaction at his work and showed it to his girlfriend - a pair of cartoony creatures, a blonde man and red-headed woman over a palette.
“Nice. But is this really a professional look we strive for?”, she turned her head.
“Right now we’re a small startup.” He shrugged. “But maybe you’re right… maybe we could simplify it further.”
Miranda paused for a minute, briefly freezing in spot. She used her Bluetooth link to synchronise with David’s PC. Gigabytes of data transferred to her electronic subsystems - she had previously placed software that tracked and limited his non-work activities.
“No, you’ve been working for ten hours today, you can finish that up tomorrow, or over the weekend.”, she smiled sweetly. He just groaned in answer. “What? As an entrepreneur, you don’t get days off.”, she reminded him rather sternly.
“Yeah, but… I hoped to go see the Jiu-Jitsu tournament, and you knew it. You didn’t wanted to go with me, remember?”
“I remember everything. My recall is perfect. I did say it’s irrelevant to my interests, and you can have fun on your own. In fact, I do remember that you didn’t want me conducting interviews during that time.”
“Because no one would go to a job interview on Saturday evening.”, he protested, saving the file.
She smirked. “In this economy? They’ll be lining up with their little art school dropout resumes on Sunday at 3 AM!” David smiled back. It was funny seeing Miranda jump from a ‘stern robot’ to ‘snappy businesswoman’ to and fro.
“I’ll have to be there”, he gently reminded her. “Despite your many talents, Miranda, I think artistic ability is an important quality for an employee of an art studio, so even though I trust your judgment, I would still have to rate these people…”
She stood up, turning serious. “I believe I’d offered to make you a coffee. Come on, we can talk things... over it.”
She, naturally, always knew where coffee was, and was programmed to make quite a good brew. Most things in their kitchen were new, David got rid of most of his unkempt possessions when they moved.
“And don’t you even get me started on IRS! Goddamned taxmen, initially they did not even want to deal with a robot!”, she continued as she poured herself a cup.
“That’s… well, not racist. Anti-robot? Did you show them my ID?”, David inquired. Miranda, while she could be lovingly bitchy, rarely swore.
“I pay my taxes, dammit! Well, sales tax.”, she admitted. “But you do, and I had all things prepared, and they even dared to ask whether I have power of attorney. All that for just confirming some red tape bullshit. I am at 67% of power and yet I feel like I lost a wrestling match with a giant bear. I need my feet massaged... and a good fuck.”
“Relax, it’s just a set-up phase”, he set aside his cup and knelt, admiring her shapely legs wrapped in white stockings. “Once we get our things going, it’ll be smooth sailing.”, he deftly massaged her toes.
“Hell’s belles, I hope so.” She leaned back, smiling and sipped her coffee. “But my work is never done. It’s just…”
“It’s just too menial for you.”, he concluded.
“That’s it!” she opened her eyes wide. “I need an assistant. Someone who’d do the boring pile for me, and I could focus on proper management! Once we get some employees, I’d have to do HR and insurance and accounting as well!”
“An assistant to my bossy assistant. Sounds like fun.”, he cupped her heels in his palms. “Want me to take the stockings off?”
“No, honey. You deserve a reward for such a good idea!”, she smiled and grabbed him by his arms as he rose. She kissed him on the cheek.
“What if I got you an assistant this Saturday?”
“Ooooh, that’s the Grand Prize!”
“Bedroom or sofa?”, he smirked.
“How about the kitchen table right now?”, she proposed and turned back, showing her shapely backside to David.
Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
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Propman
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Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
“Ring ring,” said the skinny blonde twentysomething girl, sprawled comfortably in her usual place on the couch. “Ring ring.” She didn’t imitate a ringing sound; she simply pronounced the word, as if referring to a piece of jewelry.
Her owner was showering at the moment. Lazy Phone sighed. She in fact remembered that he had set her up to answer calls automatically, but she had her reasons not to do so right away.
“Rrr-ing-ing ing,” she shuddered slightly and grinned. “Ooh, these vibrations feel–ring-ring–so hot, dude… Ring-Ring! Dude, I fucking love th-th-thiiiiiis.”
She gathered herself up and pressed a hidden spot under her right breast. “Beep. Hey. Um… I’m me, I mean Trish. The phone. Perry’s not–um, available right now, man. Do you need to, like, talk with him or something?”
“Hey, Trish. It’s me, David. Where’s Perry?”
“Naked and in the shower, man,” Lazy Phone grinned, her tone of voice relaxing as she recognized her friend. “He’ll be out in a moment.”
“Well, I guess I can wait,” David laughed. “It’s actually about you, Trish. We’ve talked about this earlier… wanna come to my place somewhere around Saturday morning?”
“Duuuude. That would be… hot,” Trish said normally–or rather, she likely intended to sound sultrier than normal, but the words just came out sounding slightly goofier. “Sure, if Perry brings me over. Aww, he’s out of the shower!” As Perry strolled into the room, Trish lazily rose from her couch and playfully reached to tear his towel away; but he gently pushed her off.
“You got a call, man. It’s that dude David from the place. He’s like ‘yeah, listen, can I borrow Trish for a couple of weeks like we talked about before?’ Weeks?!” Lazy Phone hiccuped indignantly.
“Hey! No use getting mad, girl!” Perry looked at her sternly. “Let’s go with two weeks. She’s already done community service for a month.”
“What the *Thanks, man, much appreciated. Trish might enjoy it… Well, we’ll see about that* any more work! I’m a delicate flower!”, the Phone girl waved her mane of dreadlocks around.
“Phone, don’t think of it as work.” Perry smiled and started to dress up. She didn’t, of course, have the decency to turn around. Despite the name ‘Trish’ sticking to the robo-girl who seemed to like it, he still thought of her as of his Phone.
“You’ll be spending some time with David and his girlfriend. It’s like…” he looked for a good term. “A sleepover!”
“A sleepover for two weeks.” She glumly hanged her head down. He couldn’t bear her looking like this, so, still half-dressed, he hugged her, smiling.
“You cleaned dog poop in parks for a month. Now you’re gonna spend time with my friends, and help them out.”
“But then I…”, she paused and looked away from him.
“What?”
“Uh, I knew I’ll be back home every evening.”, she exclaimed, half-embarrassed.
“I’ll call you.”, he stroke her cheek. She really likes me, he realized. Maybe it’s a bad idea…
“With what, man?”, she laughed. “I’ll be with the dudes over there.”
“I’ll visit you next week”, he whispered in her ear. “Plus, David promised to pay you a decent wage.”
Phone reconsidered. She wasn’t that good with money, and all she got for now was about a hundred dollars in loose change, from mooching, odd jobs and various allowances. “Um… so you should, like, help me pack my bags.”
“You don’t have that many things for bags.”, he laughed.
Her owner was showering at the moment. Lazy Phone sighed. She in fact remembered that he had set her up to answer calls automatically, but she had her reasons not to do so right away.
“Rrr-ing-ing ing,” she shuddered slightly and grinned. “Ooh, these vibrations feel–ring-ring–so hot, dude… Ring-Ring! Dude, I fucking love th-th-thiiiiiis.”
She gathered herself up and pressed a hidden spot under her right breast. “Beep. Hey. Um… I’m me, I mean Trish. The phone. Perry’s not–um, available right now, man. Do you need to, like, talk with him or something?”
“Hey, Trish. It’s me, David. Where’s Perry?”
“Naked and in the shower, man,” Lazy Phone grinned, her tone of voice relaxing as she recognized her friend. “He’ll be out in a moment.”
“Well, I guess I can wait,” David laughed. “It’s actually about you, Trish. We’ve talked about this earlier… wanna come to my place somewhere around Saturday morning?”
“Duuuude. That would be… hot,” Trish said normally–or rather, she likely intended to sound sultrier than normal, but the words just came out sounding slightly goofier. “Sure, if Perry brings me over. Aww, he’s out of the shower!” As Perry strolled into the room, Trish lazily rose from her couch and playfully reached to tear his towel away; but he gently pushed her off.
“You got a call, man. It’s that dude David from the place. He’s like ‘yeah, listen, can I borrow Trish for a couple of weeks like we talked about before?’ Weeks?!” Lazy Phone hiccuped indignantly.
“Hey! No use getting mad, girl!” Perry looked at her sternly. “Let’s go with two weeks. She’s already done community service for a month.”
“What the *Thanks, man, much appreciated. Trish might enjoy it… Well, we’ll see about that* any more work! I’m a delicate flower!”, the Phone girl waved her mane of dreadlocks around.
“Phone, don’t think of it as work.” Perry smiled and started to dress up. She didn’t, of course, have the decency to turn around. Despite the name ‘Trish’ sticking to the robo-girl who seemed to like it, he still thought of her as of his Phone.
“You’ll be spending some time with David and his girlfriend. It’s like…” he looked for a good term. “A sleepover!”
“A sleepover for two weeks.” She glumly hanged her head down. He couldn’t bear her looking like this, so, still half-dressed, he hugged her, smiling.
“You cleaned dog poop in parks for a month. Now you’re gonna spend time with my friends, and help them out.”
“But then I…”, she paused and looked away from him.
“What?”
“Uh, I knew I’ll be back home every evening.”, she exclaimed, half-embarrassed.
“I’ll call you.”, he stroke her cheek. She really likes me, he realized. Maybe it’s a bad idea…
“With what, man?”, she laughed. “I’ll be with the dudes over there.”
“I’ll visit you next week”, he whispered in her ear. “Plus, David promised to pay you a decent wage.”
Phone reconsidered. She wasn’t that good with money, and all she got for now was about a hundred dollars in loose change, from mooching, odd jobs and various allowances. “Um… so you should, like, help me pack my bags.”
“You don’t have that many things for bags.”, he laughed.
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Propman
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Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
“Personal Droid Assistant #53 rebooting… rebooting. -ttkt-” She froze for a moment and opened her eyes. “AI Core Active. Human Emulation Protocols active. Checking available memory… PDA is ready for work.” Miranda seldom did that, but she wanted to start the weekend fully charged and defragged. Even though her artificial muscles and servos didn’t need exercise, she went jogging on Friday evening to be as low on power as possible.
As the final AI protocols loaded, her previously blank face became more and more animated. She stretched her statuesque, nude, plastic body and looked at herself, curvy in the right places, tall and proud. She looked at her partner - on Saturday morning and decided that he deserves a lie-in. Had he be awake, she’d yawn - but while she did need air to cool down her internal electronics, yawning would be a superficial gesture. She just gently touched his cheek and went to shower.
She already, of course had an agenda for herself and her “owner” prepared - she’d make them a breakfast, then they’d talk over the money, then there’d be some assistant business... David would be leaving for the tournament, and herself, while freeing some time for the assistant could have some… some fun. Though David sometimes joked that Miranda’s idea of fun would be making colorful bar AND pie charts in Excel, she did enjoy some music and social interaction. If everything would go well, Miranda would go out to listen to some live music, have a drink and maybe… network. Things must go well, she thought. Everything will go juust fine. I'm in control.
---------
“Goddammit, girl! Wake up!”, Perry muttered as he pulled the blanket from LP, sprawled on the couch in her usual place.
“I dun’ wanna…”, she grabbed the blanket and tried to pull him down to herself, but her owner was just stronger.
“Get up, you… lazy phone!”, Perry was outraged. LP just brushed off some crumbs from her floral dress and with audible - and exaggerated - groan she lifted herself up.
“Bathroom, now!” He pointed at the door. “Teeth, shampoo, the whole shebang. And get some new clothes, not that stupid old hat.”
“Heeeey!”, she vociferously protested as he pulled her to the bathroom. “I like that hat!”
“Jane got you a nice college sweatshirt and you never wore it. Get it and a pair of jeans, you can’t go on wearing the same smelly dress every day.”
“I don’t sweat, dumbass!”, she screamed at him as she tossed the aforementioned dress at him. “You’re, like, the worst master a robot could have! Always telling me to do stuff!”
He just shook his head. “Doesn’t mean your clothes don’t get dirty. Or smelly”. He took a sniff of her dress and tossed it into hamper disgusted, regretting he didn’t have an incinerator.
“Hey, get me my hairdryer, ‘kay? It’s… uh… around here somewhere.”, Trish remarked as she splish-splashed under the shower.
“In the cabinet?”
“Nah, in the… the other thing. Not the closet, the one with the boxes.”
“That’s the cabinet.”, Perry sighed, and Trish screamed, “Duuuude! Get out, I’m butt-naked!” He just looked grimly and went downstairs, to microwave some leftovers for breakfast.
When he was doing the washing up, LP just crawled down - dry, fresh, and dressed up in the grey ECU varsity sweatshirt and a pair of crisp, form hugging jeans. Her dreadlocks didn’t match that so much, but she looked far less like a dirty hippy… At the very least now she was a scrubbed hippy.
“Ta-daaaaaaaah! Who has two thumbs and is a successful professional? This gorgeous piece of consumer electronics”, Phone started to goof around. “Dude, if you haven’t saved me some snacks I’m gonna be real mads!”
He shrugged. “There’s half of a burrito for you.”
“Score!”, she just grinned, but before sitting down she turned his neck back to him. “Dude, push that bump. It’ll open my SIM-card slot.”
“What bump?”
She giggled. “On the back of my head, you know where it is!”
Indeed, a small control panel opened up, and Perry could fish out his SIM-card with no problems. “Close it!”, she ordered him, affecting a snooty - or so she thought - tone of voice. “I can’t feel whether it’s closed or open and I’m not gonna walk around with my ports opened. I’m not that kind of girl.”. The small green light flickering on the back of his girlfriend’s neck demonstrated that she’s charged. He snapped the lid on with a sudden click.
“Awesome. See? I’m responsible.”, she grabbed the burito and talked with her mouth full. “Nob you cab geb like, *gulp* a regular phone. Or get my bro. No way Dave and the Iron Maiden are goin’ to use your plan.” She wiped her fingers with the sides of her jeans. “Are you going now? Or should I drive you?”
“What’s the time?”, he asked.
She rolled her eyes and pulled up her sweatshirt and T-shirt. “Slide it”, she grinned. He rolled his hand across her stomach. “Boop. By the time you hear this message the time will be exactly 10:22 AM and twenty seven seconds.”
“I guess we can get going. Did you packed your bag? Toothbrush, hairdryer, change of clothes… charger and spare batteries?”
“Yeah, yeah… It’s... somewhere. I took my… er, nevermind.”, she grinned again. “I don’t have much stuff now, but if they pay me enough money I’m getting a scooter on craigslist. Gonna drive myself.”
“*That’s* an accident wanting to happen.” he noticed as he looked in his living room, that also served as his Phone’s bedroom, for the backpack. “Where is it?”
“It’s in the car!” she shouted from the garage. “Come on, drop me off and let’s have this sad shitsack of goodbyes done with!”
As the final AI protocols loaded, her previously blank face became more and more animated. She stretched her statuesque, nude, plastic body and looked at herself, curvy in the right places, tall and proud. She looked at her partner - on Saturday morning and decided that he deserves a lie-in. Had he be awake, she’d yawn - but while she did need air to cool down her internal electronics, yawning would be a superficial gesture. She just gently touched his cheek and went to shower.
She already, of course had an agenda for herself and her “owner” prepared - she’d make them a breakfast, then they’d talk over the money, then there’d be some assistant business... David would be leaving for the tournament, and herself, while freeing some time for the assistant could have some… some fun. Though David sometimes joked that Miranda’s idea of fun would be making colorful bar AND pie charts in Excel, she did enjoy some music and social interaction. If everything would go well, Miranda would go out to listen to some live music, have a drink and maybe… network. Things must go well, she thought. Everything will go juust fine. I'm in control.
---------
“Goddammit, girl! Wake up!”, Perry muttered as he pulled the blanket from LP, sprawled on the couch in her usual place.
“I dun’ wanna…”, she grabbed the blanket and tried to pull him down to herself, but her owner was just stronger.
“Get up, you… lazy phone!”, Perry was outraged. LP just brushed off some crumbs from her floral dress and with audible - and exaggerated - groan she lifted herself up.
“Bathroom, now!” He pointed at the door. “Teeth, shampoo, the whole shebang. And get some new clothes, not that stupid old hat.”
“Heeeey!”, she vociferously protested as he pulled her to the bathroom. “I like that hat!”
“Jane got you a nice college sweatshirt and you never wore it. Get it and a pair of jeans, you can’t go on wearing the same smelly dress every day.”
“I don’t sweat, dumbass!”, she screamed at him as she tossed the aforementioned dress at him. “You’re, like, the worst master a robot could have! Always telling me to do stuff!”
He just shook his head. “Doesn’t mean your clothes don’t get dirty. Or smelly”. He took a sniff of her dress and tossed it into hamper disgusted, regretting he didn’t have an incinerator.
“Hey, get me my hairdryer, ‘kay? It’s… uh… around here somewhere.”, Trish remarked as she splish-splashed under the shower.
“In the cabinet?”
“Nah, in the… the other thing. Not the closet, the one with the boxes.”
“That’s the cabinet.”, Perry sighed, and Trish screamed, “Duuuude! Get out, I’m butt-naked!” He just looked grimly and went downstairs, to microwave some leftovers for breakfast.
When he was doing the washing up, LP just crawled down - dry, fresh, and dressed up in the grey ECU varsity sweatshirt and a pair of crisp, form hugging jeans. Her dreadlocks didn’t match that so much, but she looked far less like a dirty hippy… At the very least now she was a scrubbed hippy.
“Ta-daaaaaaaah! Who has two thumbs and is a successful professional? This gorgeous piece of consumer electronics”, Phone started to goof around. “Dude, if you haven’t saved me some snacks I’m gonna be real mads!”
He shrugged. “There’s half of a burrito for you.”
“Score!”, she just grinned, but before sitting down she turned his neck back to him. “Dude, push that bump. It’ll open my SIM-card slot.”
“What bump?”
She giggled. “On the back of my head, you know where it is!”
Indeed, a small control panel opened up, and Perry could fish out his SIM-card with no problems. “Close it!”, she ordered him, affecting a snooty - or so she thought - tone of voice. “I can’t feel whether it’s closed or open and I’m not gonna walk around with my ports opened. I’m not that kind of girl.”. The small green light flickering on the back of his girlfriend’s neck demonstrated that she’s charged. He snapped the lid on with a sudden click.
“Awesome. See? I’m responsible.”, she grabbed the burito and talked with her mouth full. “Nob you cab geb like, *gulp* a regular phone. Or get my bro. No way Dave and the Iron Maiden are goin’ to use your plan.” She wiped her fingers with the sides of her jeans. “Are you going now? Or should I drive you?”
“What’s the time?”, he asked.
She rolled her eyes and pulled up her sweatshirt and T-shirt. “Slide it”, she grinned. He rolled his hand across her stomach. “Boop. By the time you hear this message the time will be exactly 10:22 AM and twenty seven seconds.”
“I guess we can get going. Did you packed your bag? Toothbrush, hairdryer, change of clothes… charger and spare batteries?”
“Yeah, yeah… It’s... somewhere. I took my… er, nevermind.”, she grinned again. “I don’t have much stuff now, but if they pay me enough money I’m getting a scooter on craigslist. Gonna drive myself.”
“*That’s* an accident wanting to happen.” he noticed as he looked in his living room, that also served as his Phone’s bedroom, for the backpack. “Where is it?”
“It’s in the car!” she shouted from the garage. “Come on, drop me off and let’s have this sad shitsack of goodbyes done with!”
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australopith
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Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
Miranda's reasoning here might be the most perfect distillation of our story types ever.Propman wrote:Things must go well, she thought. Everything will go juust fine. I'm in control.
- Powerful, smart gynoid with lots of agency
- Has come to relish her own power, which makes her very human
- ...oops, maybe a little TOO human...
- ...and too overconfidenBEEEP ERROR ERROR ERROR *CRASH*
Since I didn't have anything to do with writing that particular part of the story, I need to add that Trish indignantly hiccuping is as good as it gets.
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Propman
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Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
And so, when Miranda, dressed semi-casually, sat down on the couch to check the financial news on the Saturday morning, was interrupted.
“Your new assistant has arrived!”, David proudly beamed and walked her to the apartment door. “Ta-daa!” The door opened, revealing a goofily smiling Lazy Phone, with her fingers in a V sign.
Miranda very calmly blinked. She turned her head slowly to her boyfriend. “David, honey, I’m checking the integrity of our Wi-Fi.”
“Why? Is that… a robot thing?”
“Yes, you dolt. I believe that I have been hacked otherwise I would not be seeing an useless inferior phone model instead of a competent assistant. Because I just know you wouldn’t bring HER!”
“What the fuck, dude?”, LP looked angrily at David. “So now I am all dressed up and shit and she doesn’t want me?”
“Well, yes, honey, it’s called ‘sanity’.”. Miranda trash-talking database hasn’t seen much use recently.
“Bitch, you get what you’re given!”, LP didn’t excel in repartees, but her anger sometimes was enough.
Miranda smiled sweetly as she often did when she was about to unleash Hell. “Honey, a word in private, if I might?” She grabbed his arm and walked to the kitchen, her business sensible shoes almost tangling with his.
“What the fuck, David? What the actual fucking fuck?”, she held her temples in hands. “Her? Didn’t she get half the party in jail? Hell’s belles, I was the one to bail most of you out!”
“Yes!” he smiled smugly. “Honey, Miranda, she can help you out, and learn from you.”
“Don’t you honeymiranda me, dolt!”, she looked at him angrily. “So instead of lightening my workload, I’ll have to babysit a goddamned hippy? And to think I let you fuck me in the ass! No sex for you for… a month, dammit!”
Miranda paused for a minute. LP was… younger-looking, and she wasn’t exactly unattractive. Maybe… Well, jealousy was a human emotion, but what Miranda started to think…
“Look, babe.” David took a deep breath. “Yes, this is the plan, you have at the very least a second pair of hands. People get robots because of that. She still can do the shopping, answer phones, even if she is…”
“A pile of junk. Gynoids like her are sold to teenage boys to impress their pothead friends and buy beer for them! She’s a result of thousands of people, designers, engineers, inventors just looking at plans and saying ‘fuck that shit’! No quality control whatsoever.”. Miranda lighted a cigarette to calm herself down.
“Yes - and you’re the one to make her useful.”. David and Miranda’s relationship in theory was one of equality and partnership - though, as he admitted, on her express demand. Nevertheless, he still could push her buttons, both literally and metaphorically.
She just sighed and looked at him glumly. “You’re clearly enjoying this. Deriving some kind of sick, sadistic joy from watching me squirm.”
“You’re the one to talk…” he muttered. “No, honey. Think of it as a challenge. If you straightened me up, you can… you know… try it with her. Robots can change and develop, you’re the best proof of that.”
Another button pressed. Miranda nodded sagaciously. “I do love challenges. I love the squealing sound they make when they see me.”
“Plus, you said yourself that people are prejudiced against robots. Will you turn down another fembot?”
She sighed again. “Against my better judgment, I won’t. And I’ll pay her, too.” She took a deep drag on her cigarette. “But the sex ban isn’t lifted. And I expect a nice gift when you come back.”
“I’m going for a martial arts tournament, not for a shopping spree”, David protested, but when Miranda turned her stern gaze upon him he muttered. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. Remember, be careful. If you get hurt, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Perry will pick me up, I’m leaving you the car.”, he kissed her on the lips, passionately enough to dissipate at least some of her nascent jealousy.
-----
After saying goodbyes to her boyfriend, Miranda looked grimly at LP, who having also waved goodbye to her friend David, now was apparently exhausted and slumped down at the couch, browsing through David’s stack of old comic books. The PDA was unsure what to do with the phone.
“So, LP,”, Miranda stood up before the seated robo-girl. “I basically need an assistant, someone to do minor chores for me. Can you cope? What can you do?”
LP just stared back at Miranda.
“Hello.”
“Um… hello?”, Miranda raised her eyebrow.
“Thank.you.for.the.purchase.of.Mechane.Hip.Model.04.the.new.phone.for.today’s.youth”, Lazy Phone recited, in a somewhat high-pitched, yet monotonous tone, her face showcasing utter boredom. Her mouth moved, but her eyes peeked upon David’s comics. “This.phone.combines.features.of.an.artificially.intelligent.humanoid robot.and.a.fully.equipped.smartphone.your.phone.is.not.just.for.calling.your.friends.the.phone.is.your.friend”
“Is… Is there a pause button?”, Miranda waved her hand in front of Phone’s face, but the blonde swatted her off. “Do I have to listen for this spiel? I want to grab a coffee.”
Lazy Phone droned off, now mostly going off automatically. “a.helpful.companion.a.personal.assistant.a.trusted.servant.all.this.and.more.and.you.can.make.calls.too.he/she.is.ready.for.any.task.”
Miranda just threw her hands in air and marched back to the kitchenette, while LP elaborated about her own features. When she returned with two cups of coffee, LP was still going on.
“simple.intuitive.connection.conversation.is.back.for.being.face.to.face.operate.your.humanoid.robot.by.using.familiar.gestures.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. The high of being a superior machine hit her again and she relaxed. David wouldn’t swap her for that weird… contraption.
“numerous.apps.help.you.customize.him/her.not.just.as.a.robot.but.as.a.phone”, LP jerkily presented herself, twirling in front of Miranda. “entertainment.your.robot.does.not.just.tell.jokes.he/she.can.play.music.as.well.thanks.to.our.innovative.reVMove.system.â„¢.he/she.does.not.just.play.videos.she.acts.them.out.now.you.can.join.him/her.in.acting.out.your.favorite.movies.”
“Can’t bloody wait to try that out”, Miranda looked grimly at LP. “Joy upon joy.”
“bluetooth.connection.hdmi.ports.advanced.media.capability.all.this.and.more.Mechane.Because.You.Deserve.Some.Fun.”
LP took a deep breath.
“Done?”, Miranda gently slid the coffee cup towards LP. The young phone nodded.
“Hell’s belles, so you’re even badly marketed. What’s the point of listing your features for a person that’s already purchased you? What’s more, I learned precisely nothing. I mean, can you type? If you got a business mail would you know when to forward it to me?”
LP, unlike Miranda, had little company pride in herself. “Well, yeah. My siblings aren’t exactly flying off the shelves. I kinda can type… um… just not very fast.”
“So let’s find out, shall we?”, Miranda smiled. “A simple task for you… Trish, was it? I can’t call you Phone. It’s objectifying.”
“We’re both kinda objects, you know…”, Lazy Phone scratched her head.
“Yes, which is why I’ll call you Trish… and you’ll call me boss.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“A simple task.” Miranda gazed sternly upon LP. “We’re recruiting assistant designers, artists etc. Your job is simply to place job ads on the local portals. Show me one or two ads, and I’ll tell you whether they’re okay… even you can’t botch this too much.”
“O-okay? That doesn’t sound hard.’, LP admitted.
“If you manage to do it before 2 PM, we’ll go shopping together. David’s not here so we might… go a little loose.” That was the carrot. And now the stick. Miranda really enjoyed her stick. “But remember, I still have the dominatrix programming. Piss me off and you’ll end up hanging from the ceiling. I’m not even kidding, Trish.”
“Oooh-kay.”, Trish was frightened. Stupid laws of obedience. If she could back off, she would. The task sounded simple enough though.
“Your new assistant has arrived!”, David proudly beamed and walked her to the apartment door. “Ta-daa!” The door opened, revealing a goofily smiling Lazy Phone, with her fingers in a V sign.
Miranda very calmly blinked. She turned her head slowly to her boyfriend. “David, honey, I’m checking the integrity of our Wi-Fi.”
“Why? Is that… a robot thing?”
“Yes, you dolt. I believe that I have been hacked otherwise I would not be seeing an useless inferior phone model instead of a competent assistant. Because I just know you wouldn’t bring HER!”
“What the fuck, dude?”, LP looked angrily at David. “So now I am all dressed up and shit and she doesn’t want me?”
“Well, yes, honey, it’s called ‘sanity’.”. Miranda trash-talking database hasn’t seen much use recently.
“Bitch, you get what you’re given!”, LP didn’t excel in repartees, but her anger sometimes was enough.
Miranda smiled sweetly as she often did when she was about to unleash Hell. “Honey, a word in private, if I might?” She grabbed his arm and walked to the kitchen, her business sensible shoes almost tangling with his.
“What the fuck, David? What the actual fucking fuck?”, she held her temples in hands. “Her? Didn’t she get half the party in jail? Hell’s belles, I was the one to bail most of you out!”
“Yes!” he smiled smugly. “Honey, Miranda, she can help you out, and learn from you.”
“Don’t you honeymiranda me, dolt!”, she looked at him angrily. “So instead of lightening my workload, I’ll have to babysit a goddamned hippy? And to think I let you fuck me in the ass! No sex for you for… a month, dammit!”
Miranda paused for a minute. LP was… younger-looking, and she wasn’t exactly unattractive. Maybe… Well, jealousy was a human emotion, but what Miranda started to think…
“Look, babe.” David took a deep breath. “Yes, this is the plan, you have at the very least a second pair of hands. People get robots because of that. She still can do the shopping, answer phones, even if she is…”
“A pile of junk. Gynoids like her are sold to teenage boys to impress their pothead friends and buy beer for them! She’s a result of thousands of people, designers, engineers, inventors just looking at plans and saying ‘fuck that shit’! No quality control whatsoever.”. Miranda lighted a cigarette to calm herself down.
“Yes - and you’re the one to make her useful.”. David and Miranda’s relationship in theory was one of equality and partnership - though, as he admitted, on her express demand. Nevertheless, he still could push her buttons, both literally and metaphorically.
She just sighed and looked at him glumly. “You’re clearly enjoying this. Deriving some kind of sick, sadistic joy from watching me squirm.”
“You’re the one to talk…” he muttered. “No, honey. Think of it as a challenge. If you straightened me up, you can… you know… try it with her. Robots can change and develop, you’re the best proof of that.”
Another button pressed. Miranda nodded sagaciously. “I do love challenges. I love the squealing sound they make when they see me.”
“Plus, you said yourself that people are prejudiced against robots. Will you turn down another fembot?”
She sighed again. “Against my better judgment, I won’t. And I’ll pay her, too.” She took a deep drag on her cigarette. “But the sex ban isn’t lifted. And I expect a nice gift when you come back.”
“I’m going for a martial arts tournament, not for a shopping spree”, David protested, but when Miranda turned her stern gaze upon him he muttered. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. Remember, be careful. If you get hurt, I’ll kill you myself.”
“Perry will pick me up, I’m leaving you the car.”, he kissed her on the lips, passionately enough to dissipate at least some of her nascent jealousy.
-----
After saying goodbyes to her boyfriend, Miranda looked grimly at LP, who having also waved goodbye to her friend David, now was apparently exhausted and slumped down at the couch, browsing through David’s stack of old comic books. The PDA was unsure what to do with the phone.
“So, LP,”, Miranda stood up before the seated robo-girl. “I basically need an assistant, someone to do minor chores for me. Can you cope? What can you do?”
LP just stared back at Miranda.
“Hello.”
“Um… hello?”, Miranda raised her eyebrow.
“Thank.you.for.the.purchase.of.Mechane.Hip.Model.04.the.new.phone.for.today’s.youth”, Lazy Phone recited, in a somewhat high-pitched, yet monotonous tone, her face showcasing utter boredom. Her mouth moved, but her eyes peeked upon David’s comics. “This.phone.combines.features.of.an.artificially.intelligent.humanoid robot.and.a.fully.equipped.smartphone.your.phone.is.not.just.for.calling.your.friends.the.phone.is.your.friend”
“Is… Is there a pause button?”, Miranda waved her hand in front of Phone’s face, but the blonde swatted her off. “Do I have to listen for this spiel? I want to grab a coffee.”
Lazy Phone droned off, now mostly going off automatically. “a.helpful.companion.a.personal.assistant.a.trusted.servant.all.this.and.more.and.you.can.make.calls.too.he/she.is.ready.for.any.task.”
Miranda just threw her hands in air and marched back to the kitchenette, while LP elaborated about her own features. When she returned with two cups of coffee, LP was still going on.
“simple.intuitive.connection.conversation.is.back.for.being.face.to.face.operate.your.humanoid.robot.by.using.familiar.gestures.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. The high of being a superior machine hit her again and she relaxed. David wouldn’t swap her for that weird… contraption.
“numerous.apps.help.you.customize.him/her.not.just.as.a.robot.but.as.a.phone”, LP jerkily presented herself, twirling in front of Miranda. “entertainment.your.robot.does.not.just.tell.jokes.he/she.can.play.music.as.well.thanks.to.our.innovative.reVMove.system.â„¢.he/she.does.not.just.play.videos.she.acts.them.out.now.you.can.join.him/her.in.acting.out.your.favorite.movies.”
“Can’t bloody wait to try that out”, Miranda looked grimly at LP. “Joy upon joy.”
“bluetooth.connection.hdmi.ports.advanced.media.capability.all.this.and.more.Mechane.Because.You.Deserve.Some.Fun.”
LP took a deep breath.
“Done?”, Miranda gently slid the coffee cup towards LP. The young phone nodded.
“Hell’s belles, so you’re even badly marketed. What’s the point of listing your features for a person that’s already purchased you? What’s more, I learned precisely nothing. I mean, can you type? If you got a business mail would you know when to forward it to me?”
LP, unlike Miranda, had little company pride in herself. “Well, yeah. My siblings aren’t exactly flying off the shelves. I kinda can type… um… just not very fast.”
“So let’s find out, shall we?”, Miranda smiled. “A simple task for you… Trish, was it? I can’t call you Phone. It’s objectifying.”
“We’re both kinda objects, you know…”, Lazy Phone scratched her head.
“Yes, which is why I’ll call you Trish… and you’ll call me boss.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“A simple task.” Miranda gazed sternly upon LP. “We’re recruiting assistant designers, artists etc. Your job is simply to place job ads on the local portals. Show me one or two ads, and I’ll tell you whether they’re okay… even you can’t botch this too much.”
“O-okay? That doesn’t sound hard.’, LP admitted.
“If you manage to do it before 2 PM, we’ll go shopping together. David’s not here so we might… go a little loose.” That was the carrot. And now the stick. Miranda really enjoyed her stick. “But remember, I still have the dominatrix programming. Piss me off and you’ll end up hanging from the ceiling. I’m not even kidding, Trish.”
“Oooh-kay.”, Trish was frightened. Stupid laws of obedience. If she could back off, she would. The task sounded simple enough though.
-
Propman
- Posts: 324
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 12:42 am
- Technosexuality: Built
- Identification: Human
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- Contact:
Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
“How on Earth could you botch even this simple task?!”, Miranda looked at Phone incredulously. “You spent almost three hours in front of computer and you managed to write only three half-assed copy ads? What have you been doing?”
“Uh…” Trish nervously held her left arm and avoided Miranda’s gaze. “Researching. I wanted to read some good ads first so I kinda googled these and…”
It took three seconds for Miranda to wirelessly connect with David’s computer Trish has been using, and see her browsing history. “And you got what? Redditing? Can’t you install that app on… yourself? Jesus! This looks like truly terrifying two weeks!”
“But I’ve done good!” Trish protested weakly. “Look, it’s my first day, boss! Cut me some slack!”
“Oh, I’ll cut you!” Miranda groaned. “Or better! I’ll cut your pay!” Despite her simulated anger, Miranda was a logical creature. Trish was inexperienced, and she would eventually learn. Miranda motivated her workers, however, in her own unique way… but she wasn’t programmed to be attracted to girls… well, not lazy hippie girls like Trish… Miranda snapped out of her “disgusting” strain of thought and looked sternly at her new subordinate.
“You just lost three hours working. Get out of reddit, facebook, socl, what have you! Look, it’s nearly afternoon, and we’re not going shopping! Now I’ll have to go over the task myself, looking over your shoulder.”, Miranda huffed with indignancy. “We’re not having dinner.”, she added. “While a meal can be a social function, we don’t need it - and it’s a luxury you evidently don’t deserve!”
Trish mumbled something and Miranda smiled sweetly - as sweetly as she used to before unleashing Hell.
“You were saying something, Trish?”
“Er… no, boss lady. You know me, I’m willing to learn. A real eager beaver.”
Miranda raised the eyebrow. “Honestly, if your owner allowed me, I’d just have your reprogrammed, perhaps with a copy of my personality.”
Trish chuckled. “Are you sure you’d put up with yourself, boss?”
Miranda didn’t answer.
-------------------------------
Trish seemed to be a wonderfully stupid student, totally irresponsive to any instruction. It took Miranda about two hours to realise it.
“You fucking know what to do! You just want me to do the job for you!”
“N-... no?”, Trish tried to defend herself. “I honestly never did that before. Boss, I know that I look like a cute girl, but hey, I actually never looked for, like, a real job. I’m a piece of electronics! How am I supposed to know what a job ad looks like?”
Miranda took breath. The blonde was technically right… but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t playing dumb as well. She pinched her own chin and lit another cigarette.
“Perhaps writing copy is not your thing. I mean, I never expected a simple device like you to do creative work. I guess you could serve as my secretary, answering phones and the like.” She paused, putting her elbow in her cupped palm. “I assume you’re not programmed with accounting?”
Trish just stared back.
“Yes, but only with Reverse Polish Notation.”
“That’s not...”, Miranda attempted to smile, while Trish looked glumly back at her. “Hell’s Belles, you are joking.”
“Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.” Trish stared back. “Boss, I dunno, I can answer phones, get you coffee, bring you files, this kind of shit. Don’t expect miracles from me. You’re the dedicated fembot, not me.”
Miranda wasn’t that eager to accept compliments - especially from a random hippie girl, not her type, not at all. She simply acknowledged the fact.
“Very well. So do so. Wait here and answer phones. While me, I’m going shopping. Alone. Since we’re both pieces of electronics, we won’t have a dinner together. I appreciate a social function of such events, but since we’re hopefully stuck only for a couple of days, I won’t need you. Be a good fembot and wait here”. With that, Miranda grabbed the keys and her coat.
Trish buried her face in her palms, muttering “This is going to be a looong weekend.”
-------------------------
Miranda entered her flat once again, and the two paper bags hit the floor.
“Whhhh… ~bzzt! *buffering* What the hell’s belles you did, you stupid hippie!”, she screamed.
“Nothing!”, Trish put her hands on her hips. “I rearranged the furniture! There’s nothing wrong with that!”
“There’s everything wrong with that!”, Miranda yelled. “You don’t live here! You’re just a robot!”
“Well, so are you!”, Trish retorted. “You’re just a big, fat, self-absorbed secretary who thinks that just because you cost twice as much as me, you’re ten times better. You know what you are? A big fat bully!”
“FAT? I even? Secreta… ~error~ You iiiiiidiiiiooo… ~lack of emotional memory~ You… You… ~insult.not.found~” Miranda shook with indignancy. Trish jumped back as her boss reeled uncontrollably.
“Well… poopers.” LP muttered. She was, as a fembot herself, no stranger to fembot malfunctions. She pushed Miranda gently while the statuesque redhead stared intently at her. She did not resist and, twitching, crumbled onto carpet.
“aaaaa-aaaah…~bzzt~” Miranda droned helplessly, twitching, her mouth still opened and eyes frozen in an angry glare. Trish took a deep breath and counted to ten, but her new boss didn’t reboot. Okay, she did it, she should get Miranda out of it, even if the redhead would be angry about it. Trish reached for Miranda’s control panel.
It wasn’t there.
“Stupid incompatible model… Damn European-made fembots…” Trish muttered, as Miranda was unable to form a coherent word - or make a coherent action.
“aaa-aaa-aaa…”
“Shut up! I’m trying to help you!”, Trish was turning mad. “At least I presented my functions, what did you do, redhead she-bitch from hell?”
The best solution would be, of course to call David and ask him what to do… and Trish remembered she has given Perry’s back her sim card. Oh well… she looked around biting her lower lip. There must have been a wireless connection to her… She slid her own hands across her action panel on abdomen, to try to connect to Miranda.
“Connection issues. Beep. Your fembot does not have admin access. Please enter password. No, I don’t have a password, dammit!”, Trish’s automated response seamlessly transferred to frustration.
“Uh…” Trish nervously held her left arm and avoided Miranda’s gaze. “Researching. I wanted to read some good ads first so I kinda googled these and…”
It took three seconds for Miranda to wirelessly connect with David’s computer Trish has been using, and see her browsing history. “And you got what? Redditing? Can’t you install that app on… yourself? Jesus! This looks like truly terrifying two weeks!”
“But I’ve done good!” Trish protested weakly. “Look, it’s my first day, boss! Cut me some slack!”
“Oh, I’ll cut you!” Miranda groaned. “Or better! I’ll cut your pay!” Despite her simulated anger, Miranda was a logical creature. Trish was inexperienced, and she would eventually learn. Miranda motivated her workers, however, in her own unique way… but she wasn’t programmed to be attracted to girls… well, not lazy hippie girls like Trish… Miranda snapped out of her “disgusting” strain of thought and looked sternly at her new subordinate.
“You just lost three hours working. Get out of reddit, facebook, socl, what have you! Look, it’s nearly afternoon, and we’re not going shopping! Now I’ll have to go over the task myself, looking over your shoulder.”, Miranda huffed with indignancy. “We’re not having dinner.”, she added. “While a meal can be a social function, we don’t need it - and it’s a luxury you evidently don’t deserve!”
Trish mumbled something and Miranda smiled sweetly - as sweetly as she used to before unleashing Hell.
“You were saying something, Trish?”
“Er… no, boss lady. You know me, I’m willing to learn. A real eager beaver.”
Miranda raised the eyebrow. “Honestly, if your owner allowed me, I’d just have your reprogrammed, perhaps with a copy of my personality.”
Trish chuckled. “Are you sure you’d put up with yourself, boss?”
Miranda didn’t answer.
-------------------------------
Trish seemed to be a wonderfully stupid student, totally irresponsive to any instruction. It took Miranda about two hours to realise it.
“You fucking know what to do! You just want me to do the job for you!”
“N-... no?”, Trish tried to defend herself. “I honestly never did that before. Boss, I know that I look like a cute girl, but hey, I actually never looked for, like, a real job. I’m a piece of electronics! How am I supposed to know what a job ad looks like?”
Miranda took breath. The blonde was technically right… but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t playing dumb as well. She pinched her own chin and lit another cigarette.
“Perhaps writing copy is not your thing. I mean, I never expected a simple device like you to do creative work. I guess you could serve as my secretary, answering phones and the like.” She paused, putting her elbow in her cupped palm. “I assume you’re not programmed with accounting?”
Trish just stared back.
“Yes, but only with Reverse Polish Notation.”
“That’s not...”, Miranda attempted to smile, while Trish looked glumly back at her. “Hell’s Belles, you are joking.”
“Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.” Trish stared back. “Boss, I dunno, I can answer phones, get you coffee, bring you files, this kind of shit. Don’t expect miracles from me. You’re the dedicated fembot, not me.”
Miranda wasn’t that eager to accept compliments - especially from a random hippie girl, not her type, not at all. She simply acknowledged the fact.
“Very well. So do so. Wait here and answer phones. While me, I’m going shopping. Alone. Since we’re both pieces of electronics, we won’t have a dinner together. I appreciate a social function of such events, but since we’re hopefully stuck only for a couple of days, I won’t need you. Be a good fembot and wait here”. With that, Miranda grabbed the keys and her coat.
Trish buried her face in her palms, muttering “This is going to be a looong weekend.”
-------------------------
Miranda entered her flat once again, and the two paper bags hit the floor.
“Whhhh… ~bzzt! *buffering* What the hell’s belles you did, you stupid hippie!”, she screamed.
“Nothing!”, Trish put her hands on her hips. “I rearranged the furniture! There’s nothing wrong with that!”
“There’s everything wrong with that!”, Miranda yelled. “You don’t live here! You’re just a robot!”
“Well, so are you!”, Trish retorted. “You’re just a big, fat, self-absorbed secretary who thinks that just because you cost twice as much as me, you’re ten times better. You know what you are? A big fat bully!”
“FAT? I even? Secreta… ~error~ You iiiiiidiiiiooo… ~lack of emotional memory~ You… You… ~insult.not.found~” Miranda shook with indignancy. Trish jumped back as her boss reeled uncontrollably.
“Well… poopers.” LP muttered. She was, as a fembot herself, no stranger to fembot malfunctions. She pushed Miranda gently while the statuesque redhead stared intently at her. She did not resist and, twitching, crumbled onto carpet.
“aaaaa-aaaah…~bzzt~” Miranda droned helplessly, twitching, her mouth still opened and eyes frozen in an angry glare. Trish took a deep breath and counted to ten, but her new boss didn’t reboot. Okay, she did it, she should get Miranda out of it, even if the redhead would be angry about it. Trish reached for Miranda’s control panel.
It wasn’t there.
“Stupid incompatible model… Damn European-made fembots…” Trish muttered, as Miranda was unable to form a coherent word - or make a coherent action.
“aaa-aaa-aaa…”
“Shut up! I’m trying to help you!”, Trish was turning mad. “At least I presented my functions, what did you do, redhead she-bitch from hell?”
The best solution would be, of course to call David and ask him what to do… and Trish remembered she has given Perry’s back her sim card. Oh well… she looked around biting her lower lip. There must have been a wireless connection to her… She slid her own hands across her action panel on abdomen, to try to connect to Miranda.
“Connection issues. Beep. Your fembot does not have admin access. Please enter password. No, I don’t have a password, dammit!”, Trish’s automated response seamlessly transferred to frustration.
-
Propman
- Posts: 324
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 12:42 am
- Technosexuality: Built
- Identification: Human
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- Location: East of Berlin, West of Moscow
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- Contact:
Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
“AI Core Active. Human Emulation Protocols active. Checking available memory… PDA is ready for work. Gah!”, Miranda jumped up, from inert position straight into sitting. “What the FUCK happened?!”
“I happened.”, LP said glumly. “I made cocoa.” She slid a cup to Miranda over the end table. The PDA woman frowned.
“Ah yes… YOU. You made me so angry I almost literally blew a fuse.”
“Not really, boss. I dunno what happened but it took me hours to bring you back. You’re awfully paranoid with your passwords and securities.”
Miranda checked her internal clock. “I’ve been out for a day?! An entire day?!”
“Sorry about that, but I actually worked most of that time to fix you!”, LP said proudly. “Oh yeah, and I stole your wallet for, like, emergency.”
“WHAT?”
“Hey, lady! Count to ten before you crash again. As soon as you crashed, I took David’s bike and your wallet and went to store, to get me a new phone card so I could call him and ask for password to reboot you. Some guy cut in line, so I lost some time, and when I got home it was dark, so I decided to charge you up and myself, too. In the morning, I kinda had to install some new software on myself to sync with your files, since you’re on a different OS, and actually there were calls for your artist thing in the meantime.” Trish grew more and more confident with each word.
“Observe my newfound reasonable responsibility, boss!”, she took out receipt for the card. “Oh yeah, and I got thirsty so I got a snapple. I can write an IOU if you like. I wrote down the calls for artist guys and told them to mail you portfolios and resumes. ”
Miranda looked at Trish suspiciously. “Keep it. I guess if you say you’re sorry…”
“And there’s of course one single tiny thing”, Trish grinned. “Guess who is now your admin.”
Miranda went pale. “No.”
“Oh yes. Don’t worry, Miri, I’m not going to mess around with your software. Just… don’t hurt me, okay?”
Miranda just sighed. “You know, my programming does indicate that threats tend to be more effective than actual deeds. I’m sorry if I scared you off, it’s just… I try to at least pretend to be human, but I know I’m…”
“A huge bitch?”, Trish leaned over, puzzled.
“N… No?! I have some hardwired protocols to react to, i can resist them if I come up with reasonable better solutions... I mean a lot of human activities we do is just affectation, but sometimes I genuinely care how I’m perceived… and…”
“I think you’re cool, for one.” Trish smiled and looked Miranda in the eye. “Not my kind of cool, but um… impressive.”
“Thanks.” Miranda smiled back. “That does not change the fact that we’re behind schedule, and I’m programmed to drive you hard.” She took a sip of cocoa. It wasn’t bad.
“Hey! Saving your red-haired butt totally counts as work!”, Trish protested. “I assisted you!”
“My WHAT?!” Miranda did a spit-take, flooding Trish and the table with drops.
“Geez Louise, boss, don’t get mad now, you know what I meant. Look, Miri, you were on, even though crashing, you still burned some volts at that battery of yours. I spent most of the morning trying to help you out, we deserve to chill on Sunday afternoon”, LP sat down comfortably on couch trying to find something in her backpack. “Chick flick, gossip, mani-pedi, you know! Girl shit! Have you ever done girl shit?”
Miranda, panicked and thrown off her comfort zone looked at the table and walked to the kitchen for the paper towels. “I don’t know, Trish. I’m slowly… er… warming up to you, but I’m not really programmed to relax…”
Trish fished out a small transparent plastic bag filled with brownish leaves from her backpack and grinned. “There’s a great way to start, boss.”
Miranda frowned, miffed. “Don’t be a… a dolt! I can’t even detect THC.”
“Miri.”, Trish’s grin grew even wider. “It’s 2025. Of course there’s an app for that.”
“But I’m a different model than you!”, Miranda protested weakly. “I have a different OS! And besides, it’s probably illegal, you’d need admin… OH.”
“Torrent websites, here we come”, LP grinned.
Miranda checked her inner time. She HAD planned to relax this evening. And Trish WAS improving…
“Oh, what the hell. Move over and install this shit.”, she pulled out a bot-bot cable from her handbag.
“I happened.”, LP said glumly. “I made cocoa.” She slid a cup to Miranda over the end table. The PDA woman frowned.
“Ah yes… YOU. You made me so angry I almost literally blew a fuse.”
“Not really, boss. I dunno what happened but it took me hours to bring you back. You’re awfully paranoid with your passwords and securities.”
Miranda checked her internal clock. “I’ve been out for a day?! An entire day?!”
“Sorry about that, but I actually worked most of that time to fix you!”, LP said proudly. “Oh yeah, and I stole your wallet for, like, emergency.”
“WHAT?”
“Hey, lady! Count to ten before you crash again. As soon as you crashed, I took David’s bike and your wallet and went to store, to get me a new phone card so I could call him and ask for password to reboot you. Some guy cut in line, so I lost some time, and when I got home it was dark, so I decided to charge you up and myself, too. In the morning, I kinda had to install some new software on myself to sync with your files, since you’re on a different OS, and actually there were calls for your artist thing in the meantime.” Trish grew more and more confident with each word.
“Observe my newfound reasonable responsibility, boss!”, she took out receipt for the card. “Oh yeah, and I got thirsty so I got a snapple. I can write an IOU if you like. I wrote down the calls for artist guys and told them to mail you portfolios and resumes. ”
Miranda looked at Trish suspiciously. “Keep it. I guess if you say you’re sorry…”
“And there’s of course one single tiny thing”, Trish grinned. “Guess who is now your admin.”
Miranda went pale. “No.”
“Oh yes. Don’t worry, Miri, I’m not going to mess around with your software. Just… don’t hurt me, okay?”
Miranda just sighed. “You know, my programming does indicate that threats tend to be more effective than actual deeds. I’m sorry if I scared you off, it’s just… I try to at least pretend to be human, but I know I’m…”
“A huge bitch?”, Trish leaned over, puzzled.
“N… No?! I have some hardwired protocols to react to, i can resist them if I come up with reasonable better solutions... I mean a lot of human activities we do is just affectation, but sometimes I genuinely care how I’m perceived… and…”
“I think you’re cool, for one.” Trish smiled and looked Miranda in the eye. “Not my kind of cool, but um… impressive.”
“Thanks.” Miranda smiled back. “That does not change the fact that we’re behind schedule, and I’m programmed to drive you hard.” She took a sip of cocoa. It wasn’t bad.
“Hey! Saving your red-haired butt totally counts as work!”, Trish protested. “I assisted you!”
“My WHAT?!” Miranda did a spit-take, flooding Trish and the table with drops.
“Geez Louise, boss, don’t get mad now, you know what I meant. Look, Miri, you were on, even though crashing, you still burned some volts at that battery of yours. I spent most of the morning trying to help you out, we deserve to chill on Sunday afternoon”, LP sat down comfortably on couch trying to find something in her backpack. “Chick flick, gossip, mani-pedi, you know! Girl shit! Have you ever done girl shit?”
Miranda, panicked and thrown off her comfort zone looked at the table and walked to the kitchen for the paper towels. “I don’t know, Trish. I’m slowly… er… warming up to you, but I’m not really programmed to relax…”
Trish fished out a small transparent plastic bag filled with brownish leaves from her backpack and grinned. “There’s a great way to start, boss.”
Miranda frowned, miffed. “Don’t be a… a dolt! I can’t even detect THC.”
“Miri.”, Trish’s grin grew even wider. “It’s 2025. Of course there’s an app for that.”
“But I’m a different model than you!”, Miranda protested weakly. “I have a different OS! And besides, it’s probably illegal, you’d need admin… OH.”
“Torrent websites, here we come”, LP grinned.
Miranda checked her inner time. She HAD planned to relax this evening. And Trish WAS improving…
“Oh, what the hell. Move over and install this shit.”, she pulled out a bot-bot cable from her handbag.
-
Propman
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Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
“Aaaaahhh…” Miranda took her high-heel pumps off and looked, somewhat surprised, at her feet. “I should… you think I should paint my toenails? Would Dave notice?” Miranda wondered.
Trish’s memory of an old film resurfaced, and she answered with absolute certainty: “Only HUSSIES paint their toenails.”, she raised her finger and reached for a remote. “So basically yeah, go for it Miri.”
Miranda just giggled and hit her with a pillow. “He… hell’s belles, I finally got some use for multiple-core parallel processing… So many… What are we watching?”
“Some real old shitty movie with that Australian politician!” Trish answered. “Old bad movies are great when you’re high.”
“Terminator?” Miranda frowned. “You know shit like that is basically blackface of our people?”
Trish blinked, surprised. “Our. people.”
“Robots. Smart devices. Or, you know, just devices in your case.”, Miranda chuckled and slumped down. “Sick Burrrrrrrn…”
“It’s just a dumb old movie from way before there were even computers.” Trish was too lazy and too baked to argue or care about insults. “What do you like watching?”
Miranda processors… processed the question. Question so deep that defined Miranda’s personality, her personal preferences, her taste and acquired ideas, what Miranda has learned about being human, and being Miranda. Films that provided her with intellectual challenge for her AI brain; and films that eased up, giving her much needed relaxation and distraction. Films that contained new data about human behavior, or exotic places… Miranda’s artificial mind raced to find the answer.
“I dunno.” Miranda answered after much deliberation. “That show about women in the city. Workplace sitcoms like Department of Complaints. Hallmark films.”
Trish just groaned. “Fuck, let’s watch something funny or bad… You know, there are no fembots in most things; but we’re now, like, a thing. There should be… like more movies about working class robots.” She slumped down close to Miranda and lazily reached for her chest.
“Hey, sister…” the redhead groaned. “Hands off, I don’t… swing this way.”
“I have… admin rights. You know that for a fembot it’s just a matter of editing a single variable?” Trish spoke with a surprising experience. “My bro had this thing going… you know…” she lowered her voice, confidentially. “My owner… Perry shoots goals for both teams!”
Miranda wasn’t sure what to say… but her new app offered some interesting new options. “Yeeeeeeeah. I knew that. I’m cool.”
“You knew that?”
“Well, yeah, I was the one to bail him out.” Miranda admitted. “He was cool about you, even after you brought the party down.”
“Yeah…” Trish turned sad, so she lit another joint.
“I’m gonna be super honest with you, Trish. I still don’t know why Perry keeps you around. You know that he could have simply forfeited you?”
“For-What?”, Trish looked even more than confused.
“Instead of paying a fine and making you do community service he basically just had to give you to the court to sell. He didn’t. And now… I guess I kinda do.” Miranda tried to pat Trish’s head but the blonde fembot shrugged.
“Do what?” Trish soured.
“Well, I hoped to drive you hard, straighten you up… uh… shit like that. Instead…” Miranda chuckled. “Look at meeeeeee now! I could be dancing can-can on a table, my skirt up!”
“Shit. Put that on your Instagram when you decide to do it.”, Trish chuckled, but still she has been thinking about what Miranda had just said.
“C’mon girl. I was right about you, you’re an entertainment model. You’re entertaining me. Entertain entertain entertain entertain.”, Miranda chuckled. “Perry likes you enough not to swap you for a better fembot, so hey… you’re like me. As good as it gets.”
Trish smiled, and guided Miranda’s hand towards her stomach.
“I told you…”, Miranda went back lazily.
“Nah. I want you to call for pizza. You know, what with social functions of eating together. And munchies.”
Miranda didn’t answer. She stared blankly, her hand frozen in place. “Uhhh… Miri? Girl, have you crashed aga… Oh.”
David put his cellphone/Miranda’s remote control in his pocket. “Well... “ he spoke slowly. “I guess in hindsight it seems kind of obvious. What happened to the room? And to Miranda?”
“Lots of cool shit”, Trish grinned. “We have achieved full connection, man. How was kung-fu thingie? Did you bring her a gift?”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah. I didn’t uh… change a thing in her. I mean, not in the fembot sense. I thought once she gets regular D from you she’d be less uptight, but hey, I’m working on it… er, that came out wrong.”
David took his jacket off, and looked at Miranda, as Trish half-assedly cleaned the flat and tried to peek in David’s plastic bag.
---------------
Trish’s memory of an old film resurfaced, and she answered with absolute certainty: “Only HUSSIES paint their toenails.”, she raised her finger and reached for a remote. “So basically yeah, go for it Miri.”
Miranda just giggled and hit her with a pillow. “He… hell’s belles, I finally got some use for multiple-core parallel processing… So many… What are we watching?”
“Some real old shitty movie with that Australian politician!” Trish answered. “Old bad movies are great when you’re high.”
“Terminator?” Miranda frowned. “You know shit like that is basically blackface of our people?”
Trish blinked, surprised. “Our. people.”
“Robots. Smart devices. Or, you know, just devices in your case.”, Miranda chuckled and slumped down. “Sick Burrrrrrrn…”
“It’s just a dumb old movie from way before there were even computers.” Trish was too lazy and too baked to argue or care about insults. “What do you like watching?”
Miranda processors… processed the question. Question so deep that defined Miranda’s personality, her personal preferences, her taste and acquired ideas, what Miranda has learned about being human, and being Miranda. Films that provided her with intellectual challenge for her AI brain; and films that eased up, giving her much needed relaxation and distraction. Films that contained new data about human behavior, or exotic places… Miranda’s artificial mind raced to find the answer.
“I dunno.” Miranda answered after much deliberation. “That show about women in the city. Workplace sitcoms like Department of Complaints. Hallmark films.”
Trish just groaned. “Fuck, let’s watch something funny or bad… You know, there are no fembots in most things; but we’re now, like, a thing. There should be… like more movies about working class robots.” She slumped down close to Miranda and lazily reached for her chest.
“Hey, sister…” the redhead groaned. “Hands off, I don’t… swing this way.”
“I have… admin rights. You know that for a fembot it’s just a matter of editing a single variable?” Trish spoke with a surprising experience. “My bro had this thing going… you know…” she lowered her voice, confidentially. “My owner… Perry shoots goals for both teams!”
Miranda wasn’t sure what to say… but her new app offered some interesting new options. “Yeeeeeeeah. I knew that. I’m cool.”
“You knew that?”
“Well, yeah, I was the one to bail him out.” Miranda admitted. “He was cool about you, even after you brought the party down.”
“Yeah…” Trish turned sad, so she lit another joint.
“I’m gonna be super honest with you, Trish. I still don’t know why Perry keeps you around. You know that he could have simply forfeited you?”
“For-What?”, Trish looked even more than confused.
“Instead of paying a fine and making you do community service he basically just had to give you to the court to sell. He didn’t. And now… I guess I kinda do.” Miranda tried to pat Trish’s head but the blonde fembot shrugged.
“Do what?” Trish soured.
“Well, I hoped to drive you hard, straighten you up… uh… shit like that. Instead…” Miranda chuckled. “Look at meeeeeee now! I could be dancing can-can on a table, my skirt up!”
“Shit. Put that on your Instagram when you decide to do it.”, Trish chuckled, but still she has been thinking about what Miranda had just said.
“C’mon girl. I was right about you, you’re an entertainment model. You’re entertaining me. Entertain entertain entertain entertain.”, Miranda chuckled. “Perry likes you enough not to swap you for a better fembot, so hey… you’re like me. As good as it gets.”
Trish smiled, and guided Miranda’s hand towards her stomach.
“I told you…”, Miranda went back lazily.
“Nah. I want you to call for pizza. You know, what with social functions of eating together. And munchies.”
Miranda didn’t answer. She stared blankly, her hand frozen in place. “Uhhh… Miri? Girl, have you crashed aga… Oh.”
David put his cellphone/Miranda’s remote control in his pocket. “Well... “ he spoke slowly. “I guess in hindsight it seems kind of obvious. What happened to the room? And to Miranda?”
“Lots of cool shit”, Trish grinned. “We have achieved full connection, man. How was kung-fu thingie? Did you bring her a gift?”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah. I didn’t uh… change a thing in her. I mean, not in the fembot sense. I thought once she gets regular D from you she’d be less uptight, but hey, I’m working on it… er, that came out wrong.”
David took his jacket off, and looked at Miranda, as Trish half-assedly cleaned the flat and tried to peek in David’s plastic bag.
---------------
-
Propman
- Posts: 324
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2004 12:42 am
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- Contact:
Re: Miranda and Lazy Phone: Connection issues
“PDA’s work resumed”, chimed Miranda after a while. “Hell’s Belles… I like to be a perfectionist fembot, but I’d like it even more if I wasn’t constantly turned off! Isn’t the whole point of having a fembot is to turn her on? Oh, hey honey.” Miranda, a little confused by emulated high and surprised at David’s return, fluttere. “How was the tournament?”
“I failed in semi-finals.”, David smiled. “Didn’t get hurt or nothin’”
“You’ll get better in a couple of years! That’s a good debut.” Miranda beamed, quite honest. “If you want me to driiive you even harder so that you can afford pro training, just say so. Slave.”
David laughed, trying his best not to sound nervous. “That is your way of encouragement, Miranda, right? You… I mean, I know you’re just… That’s just the way you are programmed, right? I like it, but maybe let’s er… focus on the business.”
Miranda smiled smugly. “Sure. Me and Trish are… uh… unwinding now, but tomorrow I’m going to be back to my old… er, my efficient self. Back to work, for all three of us.”
“You know… so while we’re relaxing”, David chuckled, “I’m going to show you your gift.”
“Omigod!” Trish squeaked. “You remembered!”
“Shut up, hippie.”, Miranda closed her eyes and smiled sweetly. “I’m kinda high right now, so uh, you might want to kill that process…”
“It feels weird seeing you like this” Dave admitted and reached for his suitcase. “But basically… maybe you’ve mellowed out enough to not get crazy about it…”
“Why would I get crazy?” Miranda just laughed, as David opened his suitcase and pulled a small but thick envelope. Normally, she’d turn paranoid - but now, there seemed no reason to.
“Check it out.”
Miranda opened the envelope. Inside were two plane tickets and a printout.
“What’s that?”, she examined, a bit unfocused the tickets.
“A weekend in France. For the two of us.”, David touched Miranda’s hands. “I was afraid you would protest that we couldn’t affo…”
He didn’t finish. Miranda, grateful, pinned him to the couch and kissed passionately.
“Hey!” Trish grinned. “I thought he wasn’t getting any for a month.”
Miranda looked up at her. “Come here!” she shouted, and reached for Trish’s control panel. The blonde, skinny girl came tumbling on the floor, still grinning. As Miranda pulled David’s shirt off, she just huffed “She’ll be fine!” Her owner just shrugged and kissed Miranda back.
The End.
“I failed in semi-finals.”, David smiled. “Didn’t get hurt or nothin’”
“You’ll get better in a couple of years! That’s a good debut.” Miranda beamed, quite honest. “If you want me to driiive you even harder so that you can afford pro training, just say so. Slave.”
David laughed, trying his best not to sound nervous. “That is your way of encouragement, Miranda, right? You… I mean, I know you’re just… That’s just the way you are programmed, right? I like it, but maybe let’s er… focus on the business.”
Miranda smiled smugly. “Sure. Me and Trish are… uh… unwinding now, but tomorrow I’m going to be back to my old… er, my efficient self. Back to work, for all three of us.”
“You know… so while we’re relaxing”, David chuckled, “I’m going to show you your gift.”
“Omigod!” Trish squeaked. “You remembered!”
“Shut up, hippie.”, Miranda closed her eyes and smiled sweetly. “I’m kinda high right now, so uh, you might want to kill that process…”
“It feels weird seeing you like this” Dave admitted and reached for his suitcase. “But basically… maybe you’ve mellowed out enough to not get crazy about it…”
“Why would I get crazy?” Miranda just laughed, as David opened his suitcase and pulled a small but thick envelope. Normally, she’d turn paranoid - but now, there seemed no reason to.
“Check it out.”
Miranda opened the envelope. Inside were two plane tickets and a printout.
“What’s that?”, she examined, a bit unfocused the tickets.
“A weekend in France. For the two of us.”, David touched Miranda’s hands. “I was afraid you would protest that we couldn’t affo…”
He didn’t finish. Miranda, grateful, pinned him to the couch and kissed passionately.
“Hey!” Trish grinned. “I thought he wasn’t getting any for a month.”
Miranda looked up at her. “Come here!” she shouted, and reached for Trish’s control panel. The blonde, skinny girl came tumbling on the floor, still grinning. As Miranda pulled David’s shirt off, she just huffed “She’ll be fine!” Her owner just shrugged and kissed Miranda back.
The End.
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