FYOP/Hollywood Hardware/0055: Difference between revisions
Australopith (talk | contribs) (Created page with ":Back ---- Category:Follow your own plot Category:Stories "OW!" you shout. "Okay, here it is." You had stubbed your toe on the ball at the bottom of the pond. "Nelly, it's just dawned on me," you murmur, sloshing out of the pond. "You're a robot. Maybe you're only bad at golf because your personality simulates a normal human—who would naturally be bad at golf the first time. There must be some way you can turn off your huma...") |
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[[FYOP/Hollywood Hardware/0057|Congratulations! Click here to | [[FYOP/Hollywood Hardware/0057|Congratulations! Click here to take Janelle back to your apartment.]]<br> |
Latest revision as of 16:16, 10 July 2022
"OW!" you shout. "Okay, here it is." You had stubbed your toe on the ball at the bottom of the pond.
"Nelly, it's just dawned on me," you murmur, sloshing out of the pond. "You're a robot. Maybe you're only bad at golf because your personality simulates a normal human—who would naturally be bad at golf the first time. There must be some way you can turn off your human motor skills weaknesses. Then your electronic coordination could enable you to play golf perfectly."
In just a few minutes you've rushed to your car, then back to an impatient Janelle. You're holding a bag of accessories you had brought with you from Hollywood Hardware. In it is a booklet of gynoid maintenance tips.
"Give me your right pinky finger," you say, grabbing Janelle's hand. "If I pinch the end of it twice like the book says, your human motor skills will be turned off, and you should be a perfect golfer."
"Ow! You motherfucker," she yells, yanking her hand away. "It doesn't say anything about pinching it so fucking hard."
"I'm sorry," you say again. "I didn't mean to. I won't do it again."
"You better not," she says, handing the book back to you. "Now let's finish this fucking game so we can go home."
With her human motor skills turned off, Janelle is able to play golf perfectly. She sinks putt after putt, and even hits a few impressive drives. "See?" she says after she wins the game. "I told y'all I was gonna show y'all how it's done."
"Yes, you did," you say, admiring her perfection. "And you were right. You're an amazing golfer."
"Of course I am," she says, rolling her eyes. "I'm perfect."
You notice a few other couples nearby, looking on rather admiringly. "Hey, hotshot," you grin at Janelle. "We've got an audience. Want to tell them who turned off your human motor skills and made you—perfect?"
"No," she says, smacking you on the arm. "I don't want anyone to know I have a weakness. It's our little secret, got it?"
"Got it," you say, feeling a little thrill at the fact that you know something about Janelle that nobody else does.
Congratulations! Click here to take Janelle back to your apartment.