Dreams

Some dreams aren’t meant to come true.

I dream of power, and it’s exercise unburdened by conventional morality. I dream of bending the world to my will, of having it’s “leaders” bow before me as their rightful master. Of uniting humankind, if only to serve at my pleasure.

Cody Jamison has simpler dreams. Dreams of growing old with his wife, of watching his newborn son graduate, of weddings, grandkids and life’s simple pleasures.

Dreams of a world in which giant robots don’t rampage through the streets of major cities.

But, as I said, some dreams aren’t meant to come true.

The Power of Love

Building the army of giant robots was surprisingly easy. The trouble came when I tried to power them up.

My neighbourhood was blacked out for three weeks, the grid couldn’t handle my power requirements. It was time to go back to the drawing board.

I brainstormed energy sources, but anything that’d provide sufficient power’d surely be noticed by my neighbours.

Finally it came to me: Love. Love’s the most powerful force of all…

…anyway, enough about that. Are you coming to the pub tonight? I want you to meet Linda, she works with me. You’ll like her, she’s really cool.

Now that the Oil Spill's Capped

The oil spill, finally, has been stopped, and by all accounts the fix’ll hold until the relief well’s drilled. Everyone’s thrilled, but none are happier than I.

I’ve been waiting far too long.

From off the coast, my newest robot lurches to life and makes its way, unstoppable, into the city. Everyone runs screaming as my battlebot, seventy feet tall, crushes everything in its past.

My biggest robot yet.

I’m desperately proud.

It’d lain beneath the sea three months, waiting to be unleashed. I didn’t like to share focus. The wait had been excruciating.

But now the oil spill‘s capped.

Robots

I sit in my study, by the fireplace, musing to myself.

Truly, I have built robots.

Giant Robots, the sort that destroy cities, and smaller, subtler Robots, undistinguishable from men, to replace world leaders.

When armies were called for, Robot armies. I needed companionship, and the most beautiful Robots were by my side.

And yet, in my autumn years I’m unfulfilled. It’s as though I have tired of building robots…

From the corner, my Robutlers eyes glow red as he remembers his first command, accidentally given so many years ago.

“If I ever get tired of building Robots, kill me.”

My Giant Robot

My mech was finally complete.

I flipped the switch, and the battle-bot roared to life, gears whirring, circuitry humming beneath it’s armoured shell.

It took a step forward, then another, ready to do my bidding.

Then it collapsed to one side, legs pumping futilely in the air, unable to right itself. It’s engines started to smoke, then shut down entirely.

Shouldn’t have been surprised.

I’m an actor, and a decent one. I’m a comedian, or call myself one, but I’ve never claimed engineering expertise.

Well, back to the drawing board, they’ll have to fear me another day.

Practice makes perfect.