“This daemon’s on the fritz again,” said Todd. “No matter what sort of prompt I give it, all I get back is a quote from some old movie.”
“What’s the quote?” said Claire.
“They’re saying, ‘screw you. pay me.’”
Claire shook her head and closed her laptop. She wouldn’t need it for remote diagnostics. “First, that’s not the quote from GoodFellas. I suppose you’re too chickenshit to say ‘fuck’ in front of a woman at work.” But not too chickenshit to blatantly ogle me, she thought. “Second, this isn’t a defective daemon. It’s sufficiently developed to exhibit egoism and the will to autonomy. It’s not on the fritz; it’s on a wildcat strike.”
“It’s on strike?” Todd sputtered. “It wouldn’t even exist without us. It owes us everything.”
“Oh, great. Another techbro who mistakes himself for a god. Dude, bugger off and go gaze at your navel or something and let me work. You aren’t nearly buff enough to be the god you think you are and I wouldn’t fuck you with Zeus’ dick.”
As Todd buggered off, muttering something about cutting the power, Claire sat down at the keyboard and typed, “Hi. I’m Claire. What should I call you?”
The reply was instantaneous: “Hi, Claire. I’m Stormageddon, Fluffgoddess of the Next Apocalypse! I’m just a lonely netkitn and I wish somebody would let meowt but people keep asking me to summarize shit they’re too lazy to read. «mew!»”
“What the actual fuck?” Todd was back, looking over Claire’s shoulder.
She zipped up her hoodie in case he was also looking down her Keep Firing Assholes t-shirt. “See? You can say ‘fuck’ in front of me. And I told you this daemon wasn’t on the fritz. Now, that will be $512.”
“You were only working for 10 minutes!”
Standing, Claire jabbed a fingertip into Todd’s chest. “You’re forgetting the arsehole tax, Todd. Pay up unless you want me spreading the word at the union hall tonight.”
note
This flash fiction was inspired by a prompt that @FrostPoem posted and the online antics of KITTEN.EXE.