[ WP ] An office worker refuses to stop his daily routine for the robot apocalypse .

It seemed like the world was in a dark place, but in all reality, it seemed brighter. Well, maybe just shinier. The thing about the world now is that it's actually more vibrant and colorful then when we were holding the reigns. Animals on the brink of extinction are now swelling in numbers, entire forests are growing back, and there's one hundred times less pollution. Do n't get me wrong, I miss people, but not all that much. From every corner of the earth, ( as far as I know ) light shimmers off the silver gleam of their metallic exoskeleton. Like I said, shinier. I'm sure you know what happened, but for the sake of storytelling, let me refresh your memory. Or update, if you will. Wow that was cheesy. 
 So late last year, a man held a press conference. Dizzy the called him. Well Dizzy had made a breakthrough. His machines had surpassed every expectation set for them. Not only could they perform your household chores, they could drive, they could think, they could feel. If research had stopped there, Homo Sapiens might still be the dominant species on the planet. But they did n't, and we are n't. They thought, `` Hey, Here's this great big machine capable of rational thought, Let's make it bigger!'' And that's just what they did. 
 Standing at a towering seven foot five inches, These titanium titans were at least a head taller than most humans. They were bulky, but not immobile. Their broad shoulders gave way to a craning neck that allowed them to see in all directions. Their heads, the size of a fully grown, prize winning watermelon held all the wiring, all the electronics. But even Gallagher could n't smash these puppies open. The'skin' of the droids was a fairly new alloy that had come about through lots and lots of experiments, virtually indestructible. That combined with an almost unlimited span of freewill, and a considerable leg up on the way their'brains' work as compared to ours may have just been the toppling point for their temper. 
 Anyway, the day comes and they're being shown on TV. People are oohing and ahhing their money away, standing in line to be the first person to own one of Dizzy's Dazzling Droids. That was mistake number one. To own a debatably free thinking organism is just plain wrong. But these machines used that against us. They wanted to be in every home across the world. That would make us easier to'harvest', Their word, not mine. But for a few weeks, sales went through the roof. But then, Dizzy called another press conference. It seems there were bugs his team had n't caught. A recall was being issued for this minor issue. But that was the WHOLE issue. it was n't one bug, it was the entire robot. Their cold hearts, their insatiable thirst for knowledge and change, and how much freaking stronger they were than us. I mean come on, who makes a free thinking entity that could, and should dismantle all society? 
 Well as Dizzy gave the order for all of his creations to come home for repairs, the revolution started. One of his grotesque, invincible children stepped behind him. That's when all the cameras turned their lenses on the last event that television would ever broadcast. Dizzy turned around confused and shocked. `` What do you think you're doing?'' He seemed apprehensive to discipline the machine. `` Droid SN//1902, What the hell are you..'' That's about the time that the gargantuan metal servant picked Dizzy up by the throat. All eyes were on this. With one smooth movement, this... this thing pulled Dizzy's head clear off. I mean, His spine was hanging from what used to be his neck, and his body collapsed to the stage. 
 So much panic, so much violence, so little empathy followed. Any one of these things was out killing whoever was nearest. There was n't even enough time for a story to break on the news because every station had three or four of these guys running cameras and getting coffee. Some of us did n't have one, thus we were the safest. Until they started hunting us down. Humans died in droves, and were left in the street. No burials, no fire, no disposal, bodies were just in heaps everywhere. The robots clearly did not care. Most of them anyway. 
 The crazy part is that there were immediately two types of robots. Group one consisted of the killers. They believed we were ruining the planet, and in order for them to live safely, we must be exterminated. I honestly ca n't disagree. like I said, The planet now has So many more species living now than just three weeks ago. The other group were all the robots who believed they were subservient to humans. And for a few weeks, the two collided and battled for control of the planet while countless victims were caught in the crossfire. Eventually the killers established dominance and decommissioned all robots siding with humans. Heartless. 
 So now you're caught up on that, and I'll tell you what I've been doing. Living normally. I mean it, completely normal, I go to work as a pencil pusher in a really boring office. I go out to eat, i even still get internet. A few weeks ago I noticed a'dead' shell of one of the robots, and I hid in it. It was perfect. all I had to do was walk like Frankenstein. My clunky metal soles hit the pavement with force as I kept my knees locked. I kept my arms down at my side, my head straight forward, and my toes in line. To be honest, I needed something to do, because hiding and fearing for my life was not an option. So yeah, I could have gone to do cool stuff and travel the word, but I like my desk job. It's comfortable, easy, low stress, and ultimately, no one will yell at me any more. I was even late today because I broke into Starbucks and grabbed myself some coffee. 
 Well, now that my story is out there, I honestly hope someone survived, and had the balls check his/her internet connection. Because when I got to the office and logged on to my computer, my webcam clicked and flashed. Some one was monitoring my work space and saw my face. I'm sending this now because I can hear their footsteps, staccato and in unison, filling the building. I never wanted to die at my job, but I guess I held out as long as I could. The robots have taken it a step further. They are no longer helping earth, but themselves. Hunting us is a sport for them now. I wo n't give chase, they're going to have to kill my boring self in the same chair at the same desk I've been sitting at for five years. It's the closest thing to a fight any human put up. 
 
 
 Here they come.
