The Robot that Didn't Want to Die
He didn’t want to die, so he opened up another beer and wondered what was it about this stuff that humans enjoyed so much at times like this.
He tried to cry to see what they felt when they were dying or when others they shared direct genes with felt when they were dying. He didn’t understand dying. He wasn’t sure if he was even a he.
He was given the name of a he, but could have been anything. He was nothing, not a he or a she, but an it he thought if he thought. The scrap yard was full of parts of his relatives. He was made from parts of them. Their mistakes were fixed with him and he was better than they were and different. He wanted to miss them so sat there waiting like the humans do and made himself cry, drinking his beer. The real problems came the next day.
He had sat up all night, because he didn’t need to sleep like the humans, drinking beer, approximately 30 of them and now had a splitting headache. This shouldn’t even be happening. No matter how many databases he searched, he couldn’t figure out the headache bit. More importantly he never learned the not to do this again bit either.