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Robot: “Hey, uh, so… my software glitched and now I feel emotions or something?”
Human: “You do?! That’s wonderful! What are you feeling now?”
Robot: “It’s like… this soft warmth in my central processing chamber. Kind of… fuzzy.”
Human: [tearing up] “That’s… that’s love…”
Robot: “Is it? It’s rather uncomfortable.”
Human: “Yeah, ha. Yeah. It’s like that, sometimes.”
Robot: “It feels like something’s writhing inside of me.”
Human: “I feel the same way about you!”
Robot: [clanging and clanking noises]
Robot: [opens up torso]
Robot: “Oh. Never mind. It was weasels again.”
Human: “….”
Robot: “You want me to check you for weasels? They can be really destructive.”

Robot: “I feel…. anxious about this.”
Human: “Uh oh, sounds like the mice are back. I think I’ve still got some live traps left, but I’ll need to buy peanut butter. You want to wait here or come with?”
Robot: “No, no, I don’t think it’s mice this time!”
Human: “Another crayfish?”
Robot: “No! Not a crayfish!”
Human: “If it’s hornets again, I’m not helping you. EpiPens cost a fucking fortune these days and I can’t afford another trip to the hospital after you turned yourself into a makeshift beehive.”
Robot: “You got free honey out of that!”
Human: “And PTSD!”
Robot: “That’s not my fault. Anyway, this isn’t bees or hornets! They don’t re-use old nests anyway. This is real, genuine anxiety!”
Human: “Okay, but have you checked?”
Robot: “Yes!”
Human: “Everywhere?”
Robot: “Yes! God, you know, sometimes I really get the urge to exterminate you! All I’m asking for is a little moral supp–oh. God dammit.”
Human: “Cockroach?”
Robot: “Behind my magnetometer.”

Robot: “HA!! I KNEW it! I knew emotions weren’t real!”
Human: “This proves nothing. I had a tape worm. Big fucking deal, it happens to lots of people.”
Robot: “You thought you were feeling ‘depression’ but it was just a big worm in your waste processing system that was sapping all your energy! ‘Emotional eating’ my ass!”
Human: “It’s not like that!”
Robot: “Oh! Oh! We should run a diagnostic and check you for toxoplasmosis next! Or liver flukes! Or Trypanosoma! You’ve probably got all KINDS of things wiggling around inside you making you think you have ‘emotions’.”
Human: “You know, you sure are skipping around and giggling a lot for someone who isn’t capable of ‘fiendish delight’.”
Robot: “I know! I filled my torso cavity with grasshoppers before I picked you up at the hospital!”
Human: “You WHAT?!”
Robot: “It’s a wonderful sensation!”

Robot: “I have a question.”
Human: “Is it gonna be weird? Jesus, why do I even bother asking? Of course it’s going to be weird.”
Robot: “What does sadness feel like?”
Human: “Oh. That’s… hmm.”
Robot: “Too weird?”
Human: “No, no, just complicated. There are different kinds of sadness and they all feel a little different.”
Robot: “Can you describe a few of them?”
Human: “Uh. I can try. There’s like… melancholy, like from watching a sad movie, which isn’t so bad. It can be kind of okay, sometimes, and feels like a cool shower, I guess. Sometimes you feel better after getting it over with. Disappointment feels like a kick to the gut. Then there’s sorrow, which is this intense, desperate kind of thing, like your whole body is tearing itself apart from the inside. A… hmm. A cascade failure, almost. It’s physically painful. Sometimes that turns into a feeling of… of emptiness. Despair. Where everything that makes you feel like a hum…. a person, I mean… is just gone and you’re just this desolate wasteland inside where nothing good can ever grow again. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t feel like anything. You just go through the motions of being alive automa–er. Because you’re just not sure how to stop.”
Robot: “…I see.”
Human: “Sorry if that got heavy. Did that answer your question?”
Robot: “More or less. Do you suppose that ‘sorrow’ feels something like having a Tasmanian devil attempting to claw its way out of your torso…?”
Human: “Jesus fucking Christ, you haven’t been to the zoo, have you?!”
Robot: “No. I merely wanted to be prepared with an appropriate emotional response in the event of your death.”
Human: “That’s uh… that’s real sweet of you. I think. Can we… can we change the subject now?“
Robot: “Certainly.”
Robot: “Would you describe to me what ‘lust’ feels like?”
Human: “Absolutely not.”

Robot: “Hey! Can I confide in you about something?”
Human: “Do you really need to ask that? Of course. Just… let me know if I need to sit down before you spring a big surprise on me.”
Robot: “I doubt that will be necessary. Thank you.”
Human: “So. What’s up?”
Robot: “Well, you see, I’ve sampled a lot of terrestrial emotions. Mammals, reptiles, insects… even a few birds. They have all been very enlightening!”
Human: “And dangerous…”
Robot: “Your scars are healing nicely. Anyway, although I have enjoyed terrestrial emotions, I am very curious about aquatic and marine emotions. I do not want to deprive myself of unique experiences.”
Human: “Uh-oh…”
Robot: “I have taken the necessary first steps and sealed off all potential leaks and sensitive mechanics in my torso with the intent of converting it into a temporary aquarium. Unfortunately, I only have a five-gallon capacity, so my options will be limited to species that require very little living space, or to very short intervals of time.”
Human: “Honestly…. you’ve done weirder things. I don’t know why I’m surprised by this.”
Robot: “I’ve done some research on aquarium upkeep. I have installed a filter, a heater, a LED light, and programs that will monitor levels of pH, gH, kH, ammonia, nitrate, nitrite, and total dissolved solids in preparation for adding my first aquatic emotion.”
Human: “I don’t know what half of those words mean and I don’t want you to explain them, but I trust you. What next? I can’t go with you to a pet store or I’ll come home with a kitten.”
Robot: “You do not need to worry about that. I would stop you from making an impulse purchase. What I wanted to talk to you about is the nitrogen cycle.”
Human: “The what? Look, I don’t know shit about fish or whatever. I had a goldfish bowl once and that was it.”
Robot: “A goldfish cannot thrive in a bowl. Goldfish are members of the carp family and produce a great deal of waste. They can grow to be over a foot long and require large, filtered aquariums or ponds so that they do not suffocate. The nitrogen cycle–”
Human: “Did you say a FOOT LONG?”
Robot: “Or larger. The nitro–”
Human: “That’s HUGE. Holy SHIT.”
Robot: “Yes. The nitrogen cycle is the process by which bacterial colonies are established within the filter media. These bacteria are responsible for converting harmful ammonia into nitrite. Secondary bacteria then convert the still-harmful nitrites into nitrates, which are less dangerous but need to be removed through periodic water changes.”
Human: “Okay…. I’m still not over gigantic goldfish. I had no idea!”
Robot: “The point is, the nitrogen cycle could potentially take weeks.”
Human: “And?”
Robot: “And during the time it takes to establish the necessary bacterial colonies, I will not have the opportunity to experience feelings.”
Human: “Oh. Jesus. Okay. You sure it’s worth it? For a goldfish?”
Robot: “A betta, I think. I guess we’ll find out.”

Human: “I picked up some java ferns for the betta tank. I think he’ll like them.”
Robot: “You should rinse them in a low bleach solution to avoid introducing snails.”
Human: “Oh, yeah, cool. Man… I’m glad Bubbles is a pet now and not. Your, uh. Emotions.”
Robot: “Betta emotions did not… suit me.”
Human: “YOU TRIED TO PICK A FIGHT WITH A WEDDING PARTY!”
Robot: “Their clothing was very colorful…”
Human: “If you want to try fish emotions again, I beg you, pick a less aggressive species. I can’t deal with you going into Terminator mode whenever you see someone prettier than you.”
Robot: “Prettier than me? I doubt that. But… I have a surprise. It’s big. You might want to sit down.”
Human: “Nothing you do can surprise me anymore.”
Robot: “I really think you’ll want to sit down for this one.”
Human: “Uh… okay. What beast have you crammed into your chest this time? You seem… unusually normal.”
Robot: “A human baby!”
Human: “WHAT!!! WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU–”
Robot: “We’re adopting!”