By Here we have Dave Lazer’s fascinating take on what the future holds. Includes Tom Cruise and laser robots and fucking cats at Christmas. Not sexy-time cats with Jesus, but super cats with voices and other scary shit. Read it now. Zoodrupdoofoop!
NEEDLE IN THE STAFF TOILET
by Dave Lazer
“Is that the last of it?” Joshua Hogan asked Pat Isaacs.
“Yes bro, I think so, I think we’ve got away with it, now lets just get these bags out of here. They’ll be back in less than an hour”.
The two carried the sacks of tinsel, baubles, wrapping paper and other assorted decorations quietly down the fire escape and tucked them neatly under the mountain of refuse sacks in the large steel drum outside accounting dept 303.
The two elderly gentlemen were the last of a dying breed of Britons who dared to celebrate Christmas. Neither was particularly religious, they were simply attempting to show what minuscule levels of defiance they possibly could without being executed via laser gun.
You may be wondering why an elderly gentleman used the term ‘bro’- Let me explain; the year is 2057 and it has been exactly 14 years since the scientology led invasion of Britain. Within a year all religious celebrations had been banned and there were now more robots living in the country than people. Tom Cruise was, of course, the president but he had been made into a robot shortly before the invasion. An eight-foot robot. He had specifically asked to be an eight foot robot that most definitely wasn’t gay or bad at acting.
For the past 11 years, every December 25th, Joshua and Pat had snuck into the staff toilets, put up Christmas decorations and celebrated for the 90 minutes that the Robot Scientologists plugged themselves into the mainframe to recharge, cleanse their hard drives and balance their feton levels.
A sparrow flew past them as they prepared to head back up the fire escape. This has absolutely nothing to do with the story.
“Why are we going up the stairs?” Pat asked Joshua, they both laughed, “Oh fuck, I’m an idiot. I forgot we had digital wings these days, look at us we’re a couple of idiot-wizards”. They both laughed uncontrollably as they flew back into the office.
“Where the hell have you two been?” asked George, the office cat.
“Shut the fuck up you stupid cat bastard” said Pat before kicking him in the face. “Fair enough, not really my place to ask. I’m just a cat. Soz bro”
“Ah, get fucked, George, you shit cat. You’re a right stupid cat bastard, just fuck off and eat a mouse or something”
“Safe bro, I’ll do that. Laterz” Replied George before turning back into a filing cabinet.
The two returned to their cyberdesks (which were probably made out of lasers), exchanged a knowing glance and a wry smile. They’d got away with it. Another Christmas celebrated successfully, right under the noses of the authorities. ‘We’re like modern day freedom fighters’ thought Pat. In fact, ignore that. He actually said it out loud but quite quietly. Yeah, that’s better. Ignore the thinking part bit; he definitely said it, not thought it. Just re-read the first part of this sentence but imagine it’s in quotation marks.
A loud ‘Zoodrupdoofoop’ echoed over the office’s public address system. This signalled that the Robots were fully rechardged and heading back to patrol the office.
“Hey guys misssssed yoooou!” said one of the robots returning to the office through some kind of Star Wars teleportation thing .He was probably the boss or something. Actually, I’m messing around. He actually said “Work harder or I’ll kill you” then fired a laser grenade out of the window as a warning.” Anyway, fuck you all I’m going for a Robot shit” he said as he sped off on his wheels.
Joshua and Pat again exchanged a glance, however this glance was far less smug than the previous one. This was a glance of intense trepidation. As the robot boss thing remained in the toilet for what seemed like minutes, Joshua and Pat tried to focus on their work. Neither could.
Pat nervously glanced up at the guard by the entrance to the office. His originally shiny blue armour was now, due to the excessive levels of radiation in the city; a dull, dusty, yellowish grey. As was the norm after a recharging, the office was filled with the faint smell of slightly burnt plastic. The robots were unaware of this, as they didn’t have noses.
Just as Pat had begun to settle, both he and Joshua were violently thrust into the air, remaining suspended about 6 feet above the ground. The manager robot thing suddenly appeared in front of them.
“What the fuck is this?” he asked, holding up a small shard of green plastic. They both stared dead ahead. Pat had a look of feigned insouciance on his face, Joshua literally shit himself. It probably stank. I have no idea. I’m quite drunk, I can barely remember what this story is supposed to be about, let alone whether his shit stank. In case you hadn’t twigged yet, this isn’t a true story.
“What THE FUCK is this?” repeated the robot, firing a warning shot at Joshua’s balls.
“Aaaaaggghh” screamed Joshua (who’s balls had just been exploded) “ it’s a needle from a plastic Christmas tree, it’s a fucking needle from a Christmas tree ok? I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, we had a Christmas party in the toilets”
“You are gay,” said Pat. “You are a fucking gay”
“Observing religious holidays violates rule 2.3 under of the Robotscientology constitution, I sentence you both to death by being shot in the face with laser guns until your faces explode” said the robot thing.
“No boss , no no no no no boss, please boss!” Pat cried desperately. “ Not in the face”
Joshua bolted upright, and loudly inhaled as if he had been underwater. Cold sweat seeped from his thick curly hair. He looked around, he was soon calmed by the unicorn wallpaper on the walls of his and pats bedroom. Pat, awoken by his husband’s obvious anguish asked, “ Hey baby, what’s the matter?”
“I just had the strangest dream, we were both…”
Just as Joshua was about to relay the events of the dream, a loud knock came at the door, it swung open and George the cat walked in
“Heeey guys, whatcha doin’?” asked George
“Right! That’s it, I fucking hate that cat” screamed Pat before launching himself across the room, grabbing the cat and biting its head off.
“Moody!” cooed Joshua. He then turned into a shark and disappeared down the toilet.
The fucking end.
This story has everything – A Tom Cruise robot, a talking cat and foul language. Shakespeare would have been much better with swearing.