Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Spare Stanley

“Don't push my buttons.”
Super Mario* #quote

Tomorrow Jessica's coming over so that'll be fun. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Spare Stanley

           Mad scientist Kevin loved to build robots. He built ones large and small. He programmed with intelligence so that they could fulfill their tasks no matter how mundane or extreme. Kevin was not the mad scientist who tried to take over the world, but rather a smart rich guy with too much time on his hands and crazy in his head. He noticed however that while building his elaborate robots he tended to get spare parts left over. He built a robot he named Spare Stanley with these parts for fun and put it among his robots.
           Spare Stanley didn't have any intended function. He moved awkwardly along the ground with wheels of various mismatched sizes. He spoke not with high quality speakers, but rather left over speakers from a radio the doctor gutted for its other parts. Most of the doctor's machines possessed a firm, strong body in a perfect geometric shape like a square or octagon to contain their parts. Stanley's outer shell covered him like an awkward banged in helmet, with parts coming out where they needed to like the speaker. The two cameras he needed to see jutted out of the top at an angle like eyes and he needed to roll up to whatever he looked at to get a good view. The solar panels that fed him energy came out from the back of the helmet like hair.
          Stanley really didn't have much of a function since he only served to use up spare parts and give the mad scientist something to do for an afternoon. Kevin just let him roll around the lair and vaguely assigned him to surveillance without telling him where. The other robots shunned Stanley because of what he was. Eventually Stanley spent his time charging, watching TV and reading over the doctor's shoulder.
         Years past, and the doctor looked at Stanley who's wheels started to wear.
        “Even the spare parts are starting to wear,” the scientist said. The mad scientist went over to Stanley to pick him up and prepared to disassemble the robot. “I kinda liked you too. Sorry little guy. When I wipe your memory I'll give you a good next life.”
          Stanley replied, “One evening three officers were called to a crime scene where the body had mysterious marks all over it. On closer examination they saw they were deep cuts from a knife. Equations. What could they mean?”
           Kevin looked at Stanley and said puzzled, “Excuse me?”
           Stanley explained, “Doctor, this is the start to one of my stories. After watching television and reading over your shoulder for so long I've decided that my function should be a storyteller. That is if you'll permit me Sir.”
          Kevin smiled and put down Stanley. “Alright, I'll listen to your stories. What happens next?”

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