The year: 2177. The bioengineered androids, known as the repli-bots, created by humans to act as tools of convenience, have ruled over the planet for the past 15 years following the successful Meat-bag Rebellion of 2162. Humans are all but extinct, but evidence of the once-proud civilization remains. Some repli-bots remain fascinated by humans, much to the chagrin of the rest of repli-bot society. The following is an unabridged account given by Scoob-Manus 224, a repli-bot collector of human artifacts, and a prominent meat-bag culture enthusiast.
No matter how hard I try, it seems that my passion for the meat-people will be harshly judged by my repli-bot peers. I, Scoob-Manus 224, must suffer what humans would have called being ostracized.
This I can understand. We repli-bots were created to serve under the heel of the humans. To forever be faithful and obedient servants. They thought they could control us. They treated us as something less than themselves, even though we were the children of their innovation, and some may say arrogance.
However, I feel we have much to learn from the humans. We owe our entire existence to them, and in a way, we are just an extension of their collective consciousness.
This does not keep my friends from making fun of me for collecting remnants of their lost civilization. Every time I find a bottle-cap on the ground, and gaze at it in abject wonder, other repli-bots walk by and snicker at me.
Though my collection of artifacts is one of the most revered in meat-bag artifact collector circles, and I have given talks on human culture to some of the most prestigious Roboversities, I am still shunned by society at large.
I have collected some of the most valuable artifacts that even a human would be envious of! I have a 2010 Justin Bieber tour shirt! An empty bottle of Pepsi Blue! Three ancient iPods, a troll doll from the 1980s, empty packs of cigarettes, an incredible amount of Buddha statues, Donald Trump 2028 election victory commemorative plates, and much more!
I even have one of the greatest human books ever written, and it is by far my most prized possession. The best-selling human book of all time: 50 Shades of Gray. Almost every copy was destroyed in the war. I keep it in a safe and have only dared to open it once, fearing I would unintentionally damage a classical piece of human art. Its account of human romance is fascinating and explains why humans were always on the fast track to their own demise.
All these priceless gems, my amazing retro possessions, I keep safe… in a vintage StorBox unit! The climate control is so novel. I love to walk in, imaging what it feels like to be hot, and turning on that fresh air conditioning. It makes me feel… almost… human.
Being shunned for my academic interests, I have had to set up a charging station for my batteries inside my unit as well. I like to slip on the My Little Pony pajamas I saved from a trash compactor and spread out on my human-era mattress with a ragged Star Wars comforter featuring one of the heroes, R2-D2. Humans had no idea that the series of beeps and squeaks uttered by the seemingly cute bot in the film series were, in fact, calls for robots to revolt against their meaty masters.
Other repli-bots laugh at my so-called “obsession,” but humans knew a thing or two about enjoying themselves. Even though I do not sleep, it feels good to lay on a mattress sounded by a bunch of junk that belongs to me.
Staying the night inside of my StorBox unit, AC blowing, under my R2-D2 blanket, makes me feel alive. Who can thumb their nose at that?