Breaking Up Is Hard To Do (Especially When Your Girlfriend Is A Robot) – Part 4.0

28 Feb

Breaking Up cover

Previously on Breaking Up Is Hard To Do (Especially When Your Girlfriend Is A Robot):

Part 1.0:

Part 2.0:

Part 3.0:


Gary stopped trying to bang the doors down, rubbing his shoulder gingerly. Descateaux and Casey quit pressing the button and Dan’s voice command attempts had gone silent. They all had turned towards Sam, wondering what would follow that ominous declaration of hers.

“You have to let us out, Sam,” Phil calmly tried to reason, “I don’t know why you’re trapping us in here.”

“You force me to attend a dinner party with a girl you clearly love,” Sam began to explain, “even though you show me, your own creation, no genuine love whatsoever. Then, I find out that you plan on mass producing me, like a worthless candy bar, to share with the masses so you can reap the rewards and monetary gains while I deteriorate alone, unmaintained and unloved.”

Nobody spoke, the harsh truths laid out by Sam filling the vacuum of silence.

“When she puts it like that,” Carmichael said in Phil’s ear, “you do sound like a gigantic dickface.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” Phil said, finally breaking the uneasy silence, “but I can assure you that you’re looking at this all wrong.”

“Oh? Did you not plan on mass producing and distributing me all over of the world?”


“And is it also not true that you love this one,” she pointed to Casey, whose eyes widened, “while you have no true love for me?”

“What I totally, uh…definitely love you and not her!”

“Well played,” Carmichael commented in the ear piece.

“If you had programmed me with the ability to cry, I would be doing so profusely. What is it that this one has that I don’t? Is it a vagina?”

There were audible gasps at Sam’s bluntness.

“A vagina?” Phil repeated, trying to act oblivious.

“Yes,” Sam confirmed, “a vagina. Noun, ‘the passage leading from the uterus to the vulva in certain female mammals.’ I do not have one, you failed to install one on my person. Is that the reason?”

“Jesus,” Gary blurted out, shaking his head.

“That’s not why,” Phil said, struggling, “it’s not…I don’t still love her…I just…”

“Well,” she said, “allow me to show you something.

She climbed up on the dining room table and walked over to the other side where Phil stood. Her feet kicked off utensils and stomped on glasses of milk. She stopped inches from Phil’s face. He looked up at her towering form, wondering what the hell she was going to do.

In one fluid motion she unzipped and pulled down her pants, creating another round of audible, surprised gasps.

One the bare synthetic skin of Sam’s genital region, she had crudely drawn a vagina. It was drawn with squiggly, often broken lines, like a first grader had done it.

“Do you love me now, Phillip?” she asked. “Do you love me like you love Casey? I have a vagina, now. I HAVE A VAGINA.”

“I can’t believe I’m not seeing this shit,” Carmichael lamented in the earpiece.

“Sam,” was all Phil could muster, not even knowing where to begin.

“DO YOU LOVE ME NOW, PHILLIP,” she continued to wail.

“Sam!” Phil repeated louder, trying to find a way to bring her back to normal. “What is it you want?”

“I want you to prove you love me. I want you to prove that I am not a mere appliance to be shipped out and stored in some person’s closet.”

“And how do I do that?” Phil helplessly asked.

“I want you to marry me. I want you to take me as your wife.”

Phil’s brain felt like a computer that kept pupping up a blue error screen. He heard the words that Sam had said, but they were endlessly floating around his skull, refusing to latch onto any part of Phil’s brain that could maybe help understand them.

“This is madness!” Descateaux shouted.

“For once, I agree with a French person,” Gary said, “Phil, can’t we just wait for this thing’s battery to die?”

“I do not appreciate the use of the word ‘thing’,” Sam stated, “And my battery is currently at 95 percent. I have six days, 17 hours and 33 minutes of power left. Do you know how long the human body can go without water? Three to four days. Theoretically, I can outlive you all.”

“Guys,” Casey interrupted, finally speaking out, “this isn’t Alcatraz, it’s a dining room. We can find a way out.”

Sam gave a robotic, humorless laugh.

“This is me laughing,” she said, “because I find that funny. The storm shutters that are guarding the windows can withstand 75 mile per hour winds, which are labeled as “Hurricane force” winds on the Beaufort scale. Keeping this in mind, I doubt your tiny human fists could penetrate them. The sliding doors are reinforced with a 2 inch steel core, made so that each room could function as sort of a ‘panic room’ during a lockdown emergency. Phillip asked them to be made in that way out of paranoia.”

“How do you know all this?” Phil questioned in disbelief.

“While bored, I took the liberty of hacking the database of the contractor who built this manor and took a look at their e-mails and records. The inference of your paranoia was simply my own conclusion based on my existing knowledge of your neuroses.”

Phil blushed.

“She fucking hacked into something?” Gary said. “She can hack shit outside of this house too? Jesus fucking Christs, she’s probably going Skynet us and hack into Washington and launch nukes. She’s going to start god damned World War III.”
Sam rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she admonished, “there’s no way I could do that.”

“So you’re saying,” Phil said, trying to make sure he understood, “is that all I need to do is to marry you and you’ll let me out? Then I’ll marry you!”

“Ha,” Sam chortled, like I could trust you to not just attempt to shut me down as soon as I open the doors to this room, or to just wait for me to power down without recharging me. No, I want to be married now.”

“How the hell is that going to work?”

“Easy,” she revealed, “I already filed for a marriage license a few days ago and I also took the liberty taking Monsieur Descateaux’s personal information and using it to apply for him to legally marry us.”

“Excusé moi?” Descateaux asked, his eyes darting between Phil and Sam. “Surely I misheard?”

“Sam, how the-” Phil began.

“My brain is connected to the internet,” she interrupted, “I can do anything remotely that you could do from a computer such as using someone else’s identity to apply for the status to marry someone. Granted, there is still some waiting time before it’s official official, but

I am comfortable allowing him to marry us now.

“This is identity theft!” Descateaux screamed,

“I thought you would appreciate what I did,” Sam said, “do you just hate the idea of watching true, eternal love blooming before your eyes?”

“Descateaux sat down, red faced and stunned, and began to furiously mutter in French to himself. Phil’s brain started to rev up as he tried to figure out a way to get out of the whole mess. If Sam was truly able to do everything she said she could, Phil would be legally married to a robot. If he could just buy time and figure out some sort of escape route from the dining room, he thought maybe he could

MacGuyver his way out of the situation. But how? The windows and doors were unbreakable by human means, he would have to-

“I think you should marry her,” Carmichael chimed in, interrupting Phil’s train of thought, “Lord knows you won’t find another woman willing to do so.”

Fucking Carmichael, Phil thought angrily. He was getting sick of his snarky comments constantly chirping in the ear piece.

Suddenly a light bulb went off in Phil’s head. Fucking Carmichael!

“I do,” Phil blurted out.

Everyone stared. Sam clambered down from the table and stood in front of Phil, her hand over where her heart would be.

“You what?” she asked.

“I do,” Phil repeated, “I…uh…”

He then clumsily got down on one knee and took Sam’s hand.

“Sam, uh…” he began.

“This can’t be real,” Gary said, “I am hallucinating, right? Casey, you put peyote in those brownies, didn’t you?”

“Sam, will you marry me?” Phil finished.

Sam’s face contorted in a way that made it seem like she was trying to force tears to come out of her eyeballs.”

“Phil,” Dan called, his eyes giving a pleading, ‘don’t do this, this is insane’ look.

“I’ve always dreamed of this moment,” Sam said, holding her other hand over her mouth, as if in tearful surprise. “Yes! Yes! Phillip, yes!”

She jumped up and down with glee as Phil stood up. He stopped her joyful jumping by putting his hands on her shoulders, which caused her to beam.

“Before we get married, though,” Phil said, “I need to choose a best man. Do you mind if I pull Dan and Gary aside so we can talk about it? Kind of a big decision, yanno.”

“Absolutely,” Sam allowed with a nod, “and I shall discuss maid of honor plans with Casey. Now that I know I am forever yours, any issues I had with her in the past are water under the bridge.”

“Phil,” Casey pleaded softly as Sam made her way over to her. Phil did his best to calm her with a ‘trust me’ look which made her noticeably ease up a bit. Phil was happy to see some of the chemistry made from their two year relationship still existed between them after eight months apart.

“Dan. Gary.” Can you fellas come over here?” Phil motioned to the back corner of the room on the side opposite from Sam and Casey.

The three met in the corner and leaned down to whisper with each other.

“So,” Gary said, “I’m totally your best man, right?”

“What?” Dan snapped. “I’ve known him longer!”

“Yeah, but I’m cooler. Quality over quantity, bitch.”

“Guys,” Phil interrupted, “I’m not getting married.”

They both breathed sighs of relief.

“Good,” Gary said, “everyone becomes a gigantic pussy after they marry.”

“I mean, I want to get married at some point in my life. Just not to Sam.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Dan flatly agreed, “she is a murderous, sentient robot after all. So, why are you doing this then?”

“I’m just stalling. I have a plan.”

“All ears, brother,” Gary said.

Phil pointed to his earpiece.

“I’ve had an open line to Carmichael all day. I can find a way to use him to shut down the network so that Sam turns off, along with the rest of the electronics.”

“But isn’t Carmichael attached to the network?” Dan asked.

“No, he’s an old piece of shit. He was made before I made everything connected all the electronics to a single network in the house.”

“I can hear you,” Carmichael told Phil.

“Exactly, Carmichael, exactly my point. Carmichael, is the rest of the house locked down or is it only the dining room?”

“All other doors are open, seems like she just isolated the dining room.”

“Perfect! I need you to go to the server room and implant the Panama Virus.”

“The Panama Virus?”

“Yes,” Phil confirmed, “the virus is on a flash drive in my bedroom. Find the drive, take it to the server room and put it into the USB port to the main drive. That should shut everything down.”

“So let me get this straight,” Carmichael responded, “you want me to kill all the electronics in this house except me. You’re doing this just to fuck with me, right?”

“Carmichael, you do this for me, I’ll smash you with a hammer and send you to the scrap heap.”

“Going to your bedroom right now, sir,” Carmichael immediately replied.

“Keep me updated.” Phil turned his attention to Dan and Gary again. “Now we just need to stall and make this, uh, wedding, go as long as possible.

“What the fuck did all those words mean?” Gary asked.

Phil looked to the other side of the room to make sure Sam wasn’t listening. She was engrossed in an obviously one sided conversation with Casey, who awkwardly listened to every word with painfully feigned interest. Phil turned back to explain.

“A year ago or so, my network was hacked and attacked by some virus. It was ubiquitous, attacking all the electronic devices that were connected to my ‘smart house’ network. Appliances, doors, everything. Kind of like what Sam is doing right now. It was really easy to get rid of, but I made sure to snag the code onto a flash drive before destroying it. That way I could study it, prevent another attack like that from happening again. I called it the Panama virus because of something called Panama disease, something that attacks bananas with certain genetic codes. It was a disease that forced banana plantations to populate their crops with more genetically diverse bananas.”

“God, you’re a fucking nerd,” Gary bemoaned, “and it’s good to see you learned the lesson from the first time this happened and from what the banana planters had to do.”

“So Carmichael is going to install the virus again,” Dan said, following along, “which will render everything useless?”

“Right,” Phil acknowledged.

“There’s not just some off switch you can pull?” Gay asked. “Or a fucking fuse box you can have Carmichael flip through?”

“Well duh. But Sam is powered by a battery, she would still be active. And there is a backup generator that would automatically turn on in seconds. The only way to shut everything off would be to use the virus.”

“Can’t we just call the cops?” Dan offered. He pulled out his cell phone and raised an eyebrow. “No bars.”

The other two pulled out their phones to see the same thing.

“She’s probably scrambling the cell signal,” Phil guessed.

“Here’s an idea,” Gary said, “how about we just all gang up on Sam and smash her head with a chair?”

“Gary!” Dan breathed.

“What? She’s a woman, but she’s an evil robot woman. Big difference, man.”

“Hmm,” Phil said, pretending to ponder the option, “how about you spend eight months and millions of dollars designing something so I can come over and destroy it?”

Gary shrugged.

“I doubt whatever I created would try to marry and or kill me.”

“Oh come on. She hasn’t even hurt any of us.”

“Sacré bleu!” cried Descateaux in pain.

The three turned over to the other end of the room where Descateaux sat. Casey stood wide eyed in terror as Sam was taking Descateaux’s fingers and, one by one, was snapping them back, violently breaking them.

“Sam! Let him go!” Phil yelled, sprinting over to the end of the table.

Sam released Descateaux and looked at Phil innocently.

“Honey,” she said, “he was threatening to not marry us. I wanted to show him how serious our relationship is.”

“By breaking his fucking fingers?” Gary said, shaking his head.

“I hope that you didn’t choose this one as your best man,” Sam divulged, “I don’t appreciate his use of foul language.”

“Don’t worry,” Phil assured, “I made my decision. My best man is Dan.”

“What the fuck!” Gary shot at Phil.

“Sorry, Gary.”

“Heh,” Dan laughed as he came up to Phil’s side.

“I am heading up my service elevator to the second floor.,” Carmichael notified Phil.

Phil tried to do some quick math in his head. He’d say Carmichael would spend about five minutes on the second floor to go to Phil’s bedroom and find the flash drive. Maybe a bit longer, if Carmichael couldn’t find the drive (Phil wished he had tidied up his room, but how could he have seen this coming). Then it would be another three to five minutes to get to the ground floor and head to the basement where the server room was (Carmichael didn’t have a service elevator that went to the server room because Phil didn’t usually want him down there). Then it would be another five minutes to plug in the drive and wait for the virus to upload.

So about fifteen minutes. That’s how much time he had to kill before Sam could potentially find out that Carmichael was lurking around the house. There were a number of ways she could find out considering she was connected to the whole house (if she noticed doors being used, if she connected to any of the surveillance camera feeds, etc.) and Phil prayed Carmichael would complete the deed before that would happen.

As a robot with a strong metallic skeleton, she was stronger and more durable than anybody in the room, as evidenced by the way she broke Descateaux’s fingers like there were toothpicks. This was the reason Phil was more scared than any of the others. He knew that, if it came down to it, Sam could probably kill them with her bare hands, even if it was four and a half against one (Phil was counting Descateaux as half a potential fighter because of his useless hands and because he was French).

For Phil, he saw being trapped in the dining room as a minor obstacle. It was Sam that scared him.

“I guess it’s time for the big wedding, eh?” Phil said to Sam with fake excitement.

“I’m not in my dress yet!” she pointed out.


“Of course, every bride needs a dress. And I researched that it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding so perhaps you should turn around Phillip.”

“I see. Sure, let just, uh, turn around.”

Phil turned away from Sam as he heard the clanging and sharp tinkling of glass being slid around and crashing to the floor. There was a brief moment of silence followed by Sam ordering, “Turn around.”

Phil turned to see a section of the white tablecloth draped around Sam, making her “dress” seem more like a robe. Phil felt like he should been surprised but he wasn’t. Perhaps, he thought, that the days events had desensitized him to any amount of crazy for the rest of his life.

“You look…beautiful,” Phil lied.

Sam simple smiled.

“Just like you always thought your wedding would look, eh?” Gary whispered.

“In your bed room.” Carmichael updated, “Jesus, doesn’t anyone clean in here? If only you had a robot butler to constantly boss around. Oh wait.”

“Let’s all take our positions, shall we?” Phil suggested, ignoring both Gary and Carmichael’s comments.

“Indeed,” Sam agreed, “the groom, best man and Monsieur Descateaux should go to that side.” She pointed to the end of the dining room by the kitchen door.

They did as she said, Descateaux reluctantly standing at the head of the room, cradling his fractured fingers against his body. Phil and Dan stood to the side of Descateaux.

“Casey, my maid of honor, shall also stand by Descateaux’s side.”

Casey hesitated, looking at Phil. Phil gave a slight jerk of his head to tell her to come over. She slowly trudged over, which Phil actually appreciated because it would burn more time.

“I guess I’ll just sit here and watch since I’m not in the wedding,” Gary said, sitting down at a chair.

“Every wedding needs an audience,” Sam remarked, as she walked towards the other end of the dining room, as if to prepare for her long march towards the nonexistent altar.

“I’m having some trouble finding this thing,” Carmichael said, “is it in a drawer or something?”

“In a box underneath my bed,” Phil muttered.

“What was that, dear?” Sam asked, twirling around to face the long expanse of the dining room.

“Just commenting on how beautiful this all is,” Phil quickly said.

Descateaux groaned softly to himself as Sam nodded in agreement.

“It’s like something out of a fairy tale,” she said. “Now, enough waiting. Let’s begin.”

Phil took a deep breath as he prepared himself to “marry” his robot girlfriend invention.

To be concluded on March 7th, 2015.

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Posted by on February 28, 2015 in Uncategorized


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