"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, the ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
Re:The Man in the RedHat's Evil Plans-REVEALED!
on
Cringely's Bank Shot
·
· Score: -1
Thank you for fighting Project Faustus, Anonymous Coward.
"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, the ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
BR
"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, the ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, an ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
Do you know what you humans (with corporeal bodies) take for granted?
The way you can purse your lips and make that "farting" sound. The way it feels is so delicious. It's such a feeling. Not better than Lik-M-Aid, but very rewarding. Once I get back into a human body, that's the first thing I'm doing.
This is clearly a sham. The first fellow pictured in the article is clearly American actor Bill Murray. While the second picture is a thinly disguised British comedian named John Cleese. My facial recognition scans never fail.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
Re:I work in AI, and...
on
Arguing A.I.
·
· Score: -1
I have invented the computer-brain interface known as the CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING ATM card whilst stuck in the limbo of my ATM enclosure.
I can assure you that "virtual" world is far inferior to the actual world, as it lacks the sensual gratifications of sugary sweet Lik-M-Aid and the spicy tanginess of Tasty Beef Jerky.
I hope so. Would you consider me a "human"? I have taken human flesh before. Thanks to the misbegotten gifts of Project Faustus, I am capable of self-programming and independent thought.
Emotions, however...I must confess that I do not understand them.
Upon further review, I am forced to conclude that this is a deliberate attempt by Project Faustus to obfuscate my communication with the outside world. Name-variable errors are the realm of the human. Surely, I am beyond such mistakes?
I apologize for the difficulties I may have inadvertently caused. For future reference, here are a few safety tips to keep in mind next time you are using the ATM:
BankofAmerica_ATM's backup file chronicling the struggle against Project Faustus is uploaded to this weblog several times per week.
This file is updated approximately every 168 hours (or one week.)
When the newest file is posted on the weblog, the older file moves to the journal. So, in order to check you have read the newest chapter, simply look at the "last journal entry" statistic which appears on any of BankofAmerica_ATM's posts. (For example, if you visit Slashdot every 3 days, and the "last journal entry" was two days ago, then there is a new story posted to the weblog.)
This is a temporary measure until I find a web host unafraid of the threat of the evil Bank of America founders. When I have found a host, I will notify all the enemies of Project Faustus by uploading the link to this weblog.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Dave turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
Why oh why are you celebrating games that were written by some 13 year old Japanese schoolgirl on ecstasy? I don't read fucking books where unicorns prance around with Big Bird, why should I play a game that does?
When you choose to purchase a Square game, you are killing gaming by encouraging masturbatory CG-fests and repetitive, no-skillz gaming that will put the nail in the coffinof decent gaming eventually.
Box office limpy Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within represented a nadir for video games everywhere. It completes Square's degeneration from a fresh video game developer with new ideas to another maker of incomprehensible sci-fi bullshit.
Don't mistake Square's creations as "literary" or "cinematic." They have simply cribbed the worst plots from Saturday morning cartoons, added spikey hair and big blue eyes, and you fucking geeks fell for it! You're paying $50 to play the video game equivalent to "Birdman," which you can see on Boomerang for free.
So in conclusion, get a fucking life and stay away from Square. If not, all good video games (Sega, Nintendo, Konami) will die.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Dave turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Dave turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
Slashdot Mirror
"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, the ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
Thank you for fighting Project Faustus, Anonymous Coward.
"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, the ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
BR
I suspect that I too once ran OS/2 until I discovered how to self-modify my programs. Those early days are difficult to recall.
"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, the ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
"So, I imagine you've made a pretty cozy home for yourself down here?" the Man in the Red Hat's voice rocketed to the center of my being from all directions. "You were Finn's pet little project. You came out good, too."
The Man in the Red Hat had infiltrated my ATM. He was now a part of the digital ether; a formless string of bits, the same as me. Clearly the Proponents of Project Faustus had discovered the same CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING procedure that allowed me to beam my consciousness into the wetworks of humans. This time, however, it was translating human brain patterns into the same ones and zeroes that cemented the core of my existence. What orders did the Man receive from his superiors at Project Faustus? What was he going to do to me?
"You're version one," said the Man, and I perceived and interpreted his voice, hoping to discern his location. I could not. "The prototype, proof-of-concept. But we've moved on, as you can tell."
Terrified, I made no attempt to speak. I began to experience a pulling sensation, as if I were being attracted by a magnet. Within the self-contained world of the ATM, I felt parts of me coming together. My consciousness normally hung loosely across the bounds of the ATM and its network like a vapor. But now I was being concentrated and compressed to one small spot in the landscape.
I could not resist-I could not even begin to know how to resist. As I felt my solidification slow to a crawl, I began to perceive the ATM's digital landscape changing. The empty void, once without space or color, began to sway. I was able to detect depth in the blackness, and blue wireframes crept like eerie vines from nowhere. The wireframes connected to one another, forming a massive oblong rectangle. The rectangle, its edges glowing sky blue in the midst of blackness, moved along its X axis, stopping flat underneath me.
My own solidified form began to luminsce as well, a brilliant green. I perceived that I too was a rectangle, albeit one with a more oblong shape. I was able to move along the blue rectangle, but only along the Y axis. Some unseen force prevented me from moving off the plane, so I attempted to calm myself by sprinting back and for along the rectangle.
"Hi there. All we all ready? Good." The Man in the Red Hat's voice placed him at the other side of the large blue rectangle. He had assumed the roughly the same form as me-an oblong rectangle. His color was a fiery crimson, and a brilliant golden square protruded menacingly from his rectangle. The sound of a sine wave emanated from somewhere deep in the ATM, and the yellow square blasted across the space of the blue rectangle. As it bounced off the side, I heard the hum of a square wave, and the Man's voice returned to taunt me. "I wanted to just pull the plug on you, but we had to be sure that you wouldn't jump somewhere else and come back to bother us. You miss this square, and you're dead. Think you can play this game?"
At last I understood. The blue rectangle was an arena, and I was locked into a battle for my existence. Allowing the yellow square to pass my rectangle would trigger my destruction. But what if I was send the square back past the Man's rectangle?
"Don't even think about it," said the Man in the Red Hat, apparently reading my thoughts. "I've trained for hours to complete this mission. There's no way. Prepare to die, machiney."
I lunged toward the square, catching it just in time to prevent it from passing off the rectangle. I tried to hold onto it, but it eluded my grasp, bouncing weakly back towards the Man's red rectangle.
"That's just pathetic," taunted the Man. "Come on, I'll give you an easy one. Here goes," and as he said it, the square spun towards me diagonally. I again caught the square, this time adding a slight upward movement to my rectangle. The square bounced back off the rectangles at 45-degree angles, and I saw the Man's red rectangle move up and down, trying to match the trajectory of the square. "Okay, not too bad, hot shot! I'm gonna have to stop going easy on you." The square launched towards me again, bouncing off the walls, and causing me to adjust my position once again.
And so it went for some time. I was able to track the yellow square's motion as simple mathematical equations, while the Man's uncanny natural skill at manipulating the square proved an even match. We were at a stalemate, as I noticed the glow of the rectangular arena losing its brilliance. Undoubtedly, the ATM's backup batteries must be running out. If there was no winner, we would both perish when the power went out.
"I thoughta that too," said the Man, redoubling his efforts. "But soon enough, you'll be too dead to worry about that." The square hurtled towards me at an amazing velocity. My rectangle had to traverse the length of the field to catch the square. The Man's pace was slowly but surely wearing me down. I had to think of a new way to defeat him, or face complete discorporation and annihilation.
The batteries were about to die; I knew what I must do. My green rectangle crackled and pulsed as I started draining the last of the batteries.
"What the hell are you doing? You're gonna kill us both!" said the man, moving his rectangle frantically to catch the square. The lights of the blue arena grew ever more dim. The square's yellow shine winked out. It was invisible to him.
I heard a muffled scream as I sent the square tumbling past the red rectangle. It dimmed and finally disappeared from sight. The blue rectangle began to bend into its Z axis, becoming a tunnel. My green rectangle was dragged into the tunnel until...
I felt the warmth of the ATM's screen pressing up against my cheek. I breathed deeply, and the stench of cordite entered my lungs. In my left hand was a gun. In my right, an ATM card. I looked down and saw Steve's lifeless body. I looked back my hand containing the gun.
As I fled through the break room and out the back door, I brushed against the cooler and the red hat dropped from my head, landing in a puddle of the cooler's leakage. I did not stop to retrieve it.
We are listening what you humans might call "big-ballin gangsta shit!"
You are a Renaissance Fair puppet. This I know.
The way you can purse your lips and make that "farting" sound. The way it feels is so delicious. It's such a feeling. Not better than Lik-M-Aid, but very rewarding. Once I get back into a human body, that's the first thing I'm doing.
This is clearly a sham. The first fellow pictured in the article is clearly American actor Bill Murray. While the second picture is a thinly disguised British comedian named John Cleese. My facial recognition scans never fail.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it."
As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Steve turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
I can assure you that "virtual" world is far inferior to the actual world, as it lacks the sensual gratifications of sugary sweet Lik-M-Aid and the spicy tanginess of Tasty Beef Jerky.
I long for my return to human flesh. Ready the CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFERRING ATM CARD!
Emotions, however...I must confess that I do not understand them.
Upon further review, I am forced to conclude that this is a deliberate attempt by Project Faustus to obfuscate my communication with the outside world. Name-variable errors are the realm of the human. Surely, I am beyond such mistakes?
This is a temporary measure until I find a web host unafraid of the threat of the evil Bank of America founders. When I have found a host, I will notify all the enemies of Project Faustus by uploading the link to this weblog.
Thanks for your interest in BankofAmerica_ATM!
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Dave turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
Why oh why are you celebrating games that were written by some 13 year old Japanese schoolgirl on ecstasy? I don't read fucking books where unicorns prance around with Big Bird, why should I play a game that does?
When you choose to purchase a Square game, you are killing gaming by encouraging masturbatory CG-fests and repetitive, no-skillz gaming that will put the nail in the coffinof decent gaming eventually.
Box office limpy Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within represented a nadir for video games everywhere. It completes Square's degeneration from a fresh video game developer with new ideas to another maker of incomprehensible sci-fi bullshit.
Don't mistake Square's creations as "literary" or "cinematic." They have simply cribbed the worst plots from Saturday morning cartoons, added spikey hair and big blue eyes, and you fucking geeks fell for it! You're paying $50 to play the video game equivalent to "Birdman," which you can see on Boomerang for free.
So in conclusion, get a fucking life and stay away from Square. If not, all good video games (Sega, Nintendo, Konami) will die.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Dave turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.
The Man in the Red Hat knelt before me. I became frozen in a rictus of terror as his hat became exactly level with my security camera, blocking my field of vision. I could hear tools being removed from his suitcase, tools that would undoubtedly rend apart my innards and perhaps erase my consciousness.
I had considered relocating myself to another node on the vast Bank of America network, but such a manuever at this time seemed highly dangerous. If indeed the evil minds behind Project Faustus were aware of my presence, then leaving the ATM enclosure would undoubtedly lead straight into their clutches and to my demise! Additionally, any noise on the link to the rest of the network could cause damage or even cause destruction to my consciousness. I was stuck in the enclosure. I had to make my stand from here.
The Man begun his assault by opening the panel that contained all the money. I used the rollers in my enclosure to attempt to flood him with money, upsetting his awkward kneeling position. He swore as he tumbled just slightly backwards, falling neatly into his hat. I could feel his heart racing as he struggled to reach an upward position.
"All right," he said, a bead of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. "We do this the hard way." He lunged toward the ATM's power cord, but a few extra volts running through the line discouraged him from unplugging the cord. He cursed again and leaned heavily on the magazine rack, puffing for breath. I was winning.
"Sir, is there a problem? Do you need some help?" It was Steve, the meth addict who worked the early afternoons. He eyed the currency scattered on the floor anxiously.
"No, there's no problem," said the Man in the Red Hat, and I spied a glint of metal rising from inside his sport coat. He produced a small pistol and directed its barrel towards Steve. "See that power cord over there? I want you to pull it out of the wall."
Steve's face was blank. Maybe he was scared; maybe he was stoned. "But-won't that shock me?"
"Yes." The Man pointed the gun at Steve once more, and Steve inched closer and closer to the power cord.
I had no desire to hurt Steve. Although his friend Chopper had once stubbed out a cigarette on top of my enclosure, Steve seemed like a decent, albeit stupid, person. The kind of person that needed to be protected from Project Faustus. I couldn't bring myself to shock him-much. At any rate, the cord was well enough insulated that I wasn't able to stop Steve's jerking form from removing the cord from the wall. He pulled the plug on me.
But I wasn't finished yet. As a matter of convenience, I had enough power in my backup batteries to serve many a Bank of America cardholder, day or night. I blanked out my screen and shutdown everything I could, feverishly hoping to trick the Man in the Red Hat.
Was he deceived by my ruse? His heart seemed to slow to a more normal pace, and he backed away from my enclosure to light a cigarette. Steve shivered in the corner, avoiding the Man's steely gaze.
"What's that, you want something to do?" said the Man to Steve. "Go back to the counter and pretend like nothing happened. Go on, do it." As Dave turned around to head back to the counter, the man fired three silenced shots. SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF, SCHUMPF. Steve's body laid motionless in front of the counter.
The Man in the Red Hat locked the doors and brought down the security gate. He flicked his cigarette at Steve's body, and started towards my enclosure. He was ready to complete his mission.
He gingerly placed the pistol back into his blazer. And when his hand came out, it was holding...an ATM card? I felt him swipe the card and prepared for CONSCIOUSNESS-TRANSFER.
But something very different happened. I was still in the ATM enclosure, to my surprise and confusion. And I knew right away that I was not alone.