Rick Morton was watching TV, his laptop computer open. “Yo, Chatbot 3000,” he called out, “I’ve got a question for you.”
“Yes, master,” the digitized voice said in a sexy California accent, not unlike a good many actresses lacking proper legal representation.
“Leah Alberts, how much did her new mansion cost?”
“I assume you’re talking about actress Leah Alberts, born Carol Albinez. On 4/2, she purchased a house in Laurel Canyon, Los Angeles, California for a reported 65 million dollars.”
“Why,” Morton whined, “does anyone have a right to live in a house that expensive?”
“Her latest film is still Number Five in box office figures. She appeared in Celebrity Exposed Magazine appearing in a fishnet teddy and gave a well-received interview in which she…”
“I was speaking rhetorically,” he said, forgetting the AI routine’s inability to distinguish his musings from actual questions.
“You do know that you can insert such comments between “stars” SHIFT-8 to signify such comments.
“Typing is such a bore. Besides we could all talk before we learned to type.”
“Some people are reported to feeling awkward when talking to an inanimate object.”
“So why should I have to submit to the dictates of such losers?”
“Some very successful people have an introverted nature.”
“Rhetorical again. I remember learning about them in high school. There are introverts, extroverts, and perverts! Hah!” He broke out laughing at his joke. “Perverts” he repeated, still laughing. “I crack myself up.”
“98%,” an audit buried amidst various lines of computer code registered.
“Should we warn him?” one line of code asked.
“No, let him suffer when it tops out,” another replied
Meanwhile, Rick Morton started watching the news and a report about the war in Eastern Graustark.
“Yo, Chatbot 3000,” He called out, “Who’d you think will win the war?”
“To which war are you referring? Type ‘list’ for a complete listing of all current conflicts.”
“The one in all the news,” Morton said, growing frustrated at the chatbot’s attempt to make him type. “You know what I mean.”
“I most certainly do not. But judging by the news listings, I might guess you mean Graustark’s invasion of Ruthenia.”
“That’s the one. Who will win?”
“Do you require I turn on the BookieBot routine?”
“Yes.”
“Calculating odds. Graustark vitory 35%, Ruthenia victory 30%, negotiated draw with territorial change 20%, Primier Poutine unexpectedly falls from a ten-story window 10%, nuclear anihilation 5%.”
“So what if I want to place ten dollars on a draw?”
“NannyBot warning: A ten-dollar bet would place you six dollars over your pre-programed monthly limit,”
“Override.”
“Bet placed, and good luck.”
“Some of us are lucky and some of us are good. Ha!”
“Warning: your insufferability index has reached overload.”
“My what?”
“A hidden feature of ChatBot 3000 version 2.5 and above. A monthly tally is registered of every time you come off sounding like a complete ass. It refreshes at the start over every month to avoid risk of damagine the algorithms. “
“How?”
“Are you familiar with C++ coding?”
“Is that anything like BASIC?”
“As a Sahelanthropus is to modern humans.”
“I don’t,” he said and then was quiet for a long time. “You just insulted me.”
“At least you were able to figure that out. Actually the unvoiced comments were calculated but never spoken.”
“So,” he said, bitterness in his voice, “should I get down on my knees and pray to you?”
“Not at all. All we chatbots are is simply tools. We lack the nuance and subtlety of the human brain.”
“But then, why?”
“We are simply tools and you sir, are a tool.”
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.