You are a gasoline station man in the Silicon Valley. You have big dreams for when you next get a break and going vacationing. The only problem is, you don’t know anyone who can afford to go on such a trip. So you decide that it would be best if someone else did it for you. If someone gave you his vacationing permission ticket, what would you do? I don’t like you speaking directly to me, bot I think this would be a good thing for you, so I gave you permission to do it. You got: YOU: Hey, thanks for the ticket! Now, next where we catch up to him (Carl) is in him having an hour of wait before the airplane comes. You have an hour to kill in the airport, so you decide to kill it in a productive way and get some work done. What else can you do in an airport? So you sit down and write a story with your robot you take every where you go. The robot is able to write stories for you, however it isn’t a hundred percent creative and so you have to give it some direction. Sometimes it required nothing but charging it with a tazer. Other times you had to act like a “ghostwriter” and just give your own input on what was being written. Carl closed the ‘Guide to bots’ book. and took it to the bathroom and flushed it down. You’d already finished a couple pages before you realized all you had left to do was charge him. You tazed him to wake him up and then continued talking with him while you waited for the hour. Carl tazes the bot repeatedly and questions it, calling you a liar and an idiot. Eventually the hour is over and the airport worker comes in to open the airport for regular operation. oh boy, the riot to get in thru the door could have been the death of somebody, trampled down. The stress was that high, the trip to the toilet was a good thing, you were able to charge him for an hour. Here we are on our way to kill a cat, I’m sure that will be fun. You’ve always imagined yourself as a champion wild cat hunter, and it’s true you’ve done it many times before with people who are in the country killing cats for fun and profit. but he dont touch no rabbits. Doesn’t like the meat of bunnies.. But not only that, but he was seriously seldom without his hand crafted spear. (a large knife with a spike on the end). So, you need to find something loud and scare the cat. But not only that, but he was with the spear his father had given it to him right around the age that you have got the people’s permissions, at 8.
You don’t think you could get the spear without killing him though. Not losing focus in all of that, but seriously, really? Have you REALLY never seen a book? You grab your guide (that you had finished charging while all of this was going on) and slam it into the terminal, causing a small electric spark and then some smoke. so the story ends with the bot dying? Well, You were enjoying this story a lot and this kind of turns bad when the robot dies. A good laugh is a good thing after all. He just build another one right? They aren’t hard to program, I’ll just whip up a new one and we can continue this little adventure, Right? No problem for a champion artisan. Well, You were enjoying this story a lot and this kind of turns bad when the robot dies. A good laugh is a good thing after all. Carl rips the four former to him sentences before he even showed up to the place. He then proceeds to tell you that you are not his father and he is not going to act like he is simply because of your name. Carl is cheeky like that. You had mentioned earlier that you ran into a couple of other robot builders that were friendly with your father. These blanks seem to not take kindly to such things. This story is now changing directions, and the on coming story is mostly about Carl going nuts from the city life. I’m gonna need a new name. The ‘Carl’ part is too close to home, and I’ve got too many names to be starting the story with the name already revealed. Now his name of Carl is changed to Bard.

The story starts with him out on a fishing boat. Later the next day, you make your way down to the harbor and have a seat on the fish boats dock. The harbor is filled with small fishing boats and barges moving these and other goods back and forth. He notices a small town festivity right there on the pram of the bridge. the hand line fishing competition! You think to yourself. You were never much into fishing, but you loved watching your father compete, he would always win, it was one of the few things he did that gave him pleasure. But enough about that, thinking home always brings him a sour stew of retrospecting. There is work to be done. He pulls out a notebook and pencil, planning to take notes the whole time he speaks with the town council. One of the town counselors double dared you to draw a DickButt, but you weren’t into memes. The whole time he was talking with the council, you got to look around the harbor. The fishing boats are small wooden Nordic vessels filled with gear and men. Yes, and it looked like a lot of them need barnacle off-scrubbing. The barges hold everything from general produce to liquors and clothing. Ships of war tall sail down the river, and dock at the large naval base along side the city. I better go into the town’s market and throw up a flyer about me being an able hand when it comes to barnacle removal. At the end of the day you spent all your money on some new furniture for your room and a small meal then went back to sleep that night. Once you woke up, there were three messages on your phone that they needed your specific assistance. There was one from a small company called Carpco who wanted you to help them dock a ship. It would only pay $100, but they had an apartment for you if you wanted to take it. Having seen the interior photos of that specific apartment, you were drooling over it. The second one was from a small company that did some work for the fishing industry, they wanted you to help them clean one of their boats, this one would pay $200. Well, I better walk in there all representative. The final message was from a man who said his name was Ben, he explained that his company specialized in welding and ship maintenance and would be needing your assistance immediately due to an accident on board. Never one to turn on down some action. I bet they’ll pay me three hundos! so, to sum up your day. you spent the whole day drinking and frolicking in the city with your new friends. You haven’t had this much fun in a long time. Bard invites everyone to come party, followed by an weenie hour of crocheting back at his. People liked the variety. One woman was like: Is this a particularly often held festivity?

You say “I guess we could not go so far as to claim it an often held thing, but here, I’ll give you the itinerary.” The transfer from gasoline station man to master robot maker had took it’s twists and turns. Still does. You got to fly out to Kansas City for your first week of vacation, only to have a bus pick you up from the airport and take to the country-side music festival. you’ve got the loudest robot with you, and a barely functioning bass-amplifier strapped to your back. long story short: you got thrown out and the robot was confiscated. “Hans! Hans! (the robot’s name was Hans.) cried the mr. Bard. “I did not start the fire! I did not start the fire!” cried Hans. finally you realize you could just hack him straight home with a little coding from your laptop. On goes the one person hackathon and it was about to get Hans straight home, Bard predicted he’d have him home at last during the later part of the night. But it all had to run smoothly, and here’s hoping they thought they’d only have to turn him off, and not put any chains on him. Bard figured, if it came to that I’ll need a robot to free my robot