In a state-licensed Assisted Living Facility, twenty-something CNA Joey Malone walks into the break room. "Hey Darnell, I wanted to apologize again for yelling at you the other d—oh!" Darnell stands in the middle of the brightly-lit room next to a pink-haired woman dressed in white scrubs. The stranger stands rigid with perfect posture. "Hey, man," Darnell smirks. "Meet our replacement." "Replacement?" Joey walks up. "Are we getting fired?" The pink-haired woman stares forward with vacant eyes. Darnell smirks. "Eventually." Joey waves his hand in front of the strange woman's face. "Wait, is this a...doll?" "They call it a biomimetic robot. She's charging." "Biomimetic?" "Silicone skin with life-like body temperature, realistic facial expressions, and natural eye contact." Darnell points. "Cause she's got little cameras in her irises. See?" Joey prods the robot's supple cheek with his index finger. "Creepy." "She's even got a walking gait that is 92% similar to a real woman." "I mean, that's impressive and all, but does she have to look so much like a uh..." Darnell smirks. "Sex doll?" "I was gonna say personal intimacy companion. She kinda looks like Nicki Minaj." "Nah. Doja Cat." "Ah, yeah. You're right." "Juicy era Doja Cat." "Mhm, yeah." "I told Agatha the geezers would be slobberin' all over her. I mean just look at this rack." Joey nods while staring. "I did notice the rack." "They work by the way." Joey blinks. "What works?" Darnell gestures to the robot's chest. "The NutureFlow Expression Ports." "You're kidding! You mean she—" "Lactates." "Get out of here!" "They' be pointless otherwise, right?" "I guess?" "Form follows function, after all. "That is a foundational principle of design." "Actually, I just got done filling her milk tank—" "Dude, she has a milk tank?" "With oat milk." "Eugh." Joey pulls a face. "Oat milk? "Some of the residents are lactose-intolerant. Remember?" "I know but—whoa. Wait a minute." "Heh." "Agatha approved that?" "Uh huh." "We're gonna let the residents do that?" Joey points at the robot. "With her?" "Yeah, man. This place is full of lonely old men." "Sure but—" "Wouldn't you want a little robo-booby in your mouth when you're so old nobody wants to touch your dried-out, shriveled-up ass no more?" "Yeah but—" "It's an Act of Mercy when you think about it." "I just never—but okay, I mean, if Agatha said so." "She did. Course we gotta test it first." "I'm sorry. Test?" "You know for blockage. It's in the instruction manual." "Oh. Oh! OH!" Joey's eyes go wide. "You mean you're gonna?" "Uh huh." "With your lips?" "I'll wipe it down with an alcohol pad first but yeah man." Darnell smirks. "You know a better way to check a titty?" "No, no. Um." Joey backs up. "Should I leave or—" "Damn, hold on." Darnell checks his watch. "It's time for Mr. Bartleby's pills. Actually, hey, could you handle this for me?" Joey's eyes flick between Darnell and the robot. "No way. You want me to—with her—" "Yeah, Agatha wants this bot out on the floor pronto. She wants to see what it can do." "With my lips?" "Yeah with your lips, dummy. You ain't never been with a girl before?" "I've been with a girl!" Joey retorts. "I've been with 3 girls!" "Haha, alright Casanova. Then you know what to do. Just unbutton her shirt, lower the bra—" Joey pales. "The robot has a bra?" "And two quick sips, bam, boom, you're done." "Man..." "And you can spit it out after. Since you don't like oat milk." "I don't know." Darnell narrows his gaze. "Hey, did you come in here to apologize to me or not?" "I did but that's...and this is..." Darnell leans in. "Okay, okay, fine. I'll do it. But just two quick sips." "Great!" Darnell slaps Joey's shoulder. "I'm telling you, man; with these clankers runnin' around now, we humans gotta stick together. Okay?" --- Five minutes later, a shrill voice booms in the break room. "Joey!" The CNA whirls around to find the 50-year-old Director of Nursing, Agatha Hashegan, standing in the doorway. "What the HELL are you doing?" "Mmgh." Oat milk dribbles down his chin. "Mecking the MutureMlow Mmmpeshion Mort?" Darnell peeks his head in from over Agatha's shoulder. "Looks like he suckin' on them clankers cans crazy-style, Ms. Hashegan." "Wha—" Joey gulps the vile false milk down. "Darnell!" "Quit sucking those clankers cans crazy-style!" Agatha shouts. She turns to Darnell. "I hate to say it, but you were right." "Oh?" Darnell tilts his head innocently. "If we put this bimbo milkbot out on the floor, the old men are gonna be humpin' it like feral dogs—" Darnell nods. "I fear so, Ms. Hashegan." "Til their hips break!" "Understood, boss. I'll pack it up and send it right back." "Good." Darnell points at Joey. "What do you want to do with him?" Joey blinks. "Me? I was helping—" "He's obviously fired." Agatha turns to Joey. "Joey, you're fired." "Fired?!" "You can 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 yourself on your own time," she sneers. "But I—" Agatha jerks her thumb. "Call security and get this pervert out of here." Darnell nods. "Will do, Ms. Hashegan." "Pervert?" Joey slumps. "But I don't even like oat milk." Agatha storms off. Darnell clicks his tongue. "Tough break, man." "What the hell?" Joey throws his hands in the air. "You set me up!" Darnell shrugs. "Hey, I already told you: it's every man and machine for himself." The traitor departs, cackling. "Haha-HA!" "Man—" [𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐏] The charging cycle finishes. The robot comes to life. "Uuuh." Joey backs up. "Hello, my name is Lola and I have heard everything while in Charging Mode. With my advanced AI superintelligence, I have formulated a two-step plan to rectify the situation." "O-okay?" A freaked-out Joey stumbles back into the nearby cabinet. "Step 1: We kill him." "Uh, that's homicide." "I know." Rooted to the spot, the CNA's hand scrabbles desperately across the bare countertop, fingers clawing in vain for anything—anything at all—that might serve as a makeshift shield or weapon. "What's step 2?" he asks, buying time. Lola whips her head to Joey. "You keep suckin' on these clanker cans crazy-style, white boy." --- [m][title: Attack of the Bossed-Up Biomimetic Bad Bitch]