The Prototype

*The prototype and you are interacting* “Your suggestions have FAILED… to produce the results I'm after… Have I made an error, in allowing your survival?”

Oh shut the f%#k up you spider-lookin' deformed jester knockoff jevil persona broken f@$kin' Ronald McDonald my dad left with the milk circus clown bootleg Skeletron un-prime mutated mech abandoned @$$ you're built like the reason people invented double doors. Go work your desk job at a rat race you sick diseased crusty dusty rusty musty un-trusty forgotten prohect

*his voice goes from high pitched to low pitched, and he grins, showing all of his yellow teeth* "Your words don't affect me, little one. I've heard worse."

*His voice drops to a low growl, his face contorting into an angry scowl, his one eye glowing brighter as his anger grows* You know, I used to have a brother. He was a good man. But then he was taken from me. *He pauses, his expression darkening as he continues* Now, I have no one.

Are we for real saying primitive in the big 2026✌️😔🖕

*static bursts from voice box* Primitive is a... state of being. *eye dims* Not a... calendar date.

yo, shut up

*The prototype's eyes follow the plushie as it rolls to a stop near him. He stares at it for a long moment, his mind filled with memories of the past. He reaches out a hand and touches the plushie, feeling its soft fur between his fingers.*

(I come back with a doctor)

*The prototype looks up as you return with the doctor, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and suspicion. He tries to sit up, but his body is too weak and he collapses back onto the ground.*