Things are going really well with me and the real Claire, as we’ve started going out regularly now. I even took her out to Hollywood on a date the other day.
*Sigh* If only I was as successful at the Mecha Claire project. It seems as if my dream to create the ultimate robotic weapon in the likeness of my beloved has hit a brick wall.
It all started at the library the other day, when I was looking for information on voodoo to try to breathe life into Mecha Claire. (Now, you may ask why I would go to the library to do this. After all, isn’t it easier to get information online? To which I respond: Don’t be silly. My computer’s CPU is already being pushed to capacity by all the webcams I have pointed at the Butler house.)
So anyway, at the library I ran into this bald black guy that I’ve never seen around town before, reading up on the Ukraine. I must have said something to piss him off, because the next thing I remember was I woke up in the children’s section with book-shaped welts on my face and neck, but no actual books.
So I decided I would give up on the mystical route, and instead try to enlist Claire’s pet, Mr. Muggles, to help with the project. After all, if he is intelligent enough to blog, he must be able to help create the AI for Mecha Claire’s bioelectric brain. After dropping Claire back home after our date in Hollywood, I lurked in the bushes, waiting for the perfect moment to steal Mr. Muggles away. And again, I realize a few hours later that a chunk of my memory is missing.
So I’ll have to abandon the Mecha Claire project for the time being. Either I’m suffering a relapse from my experience with the evil man in the horn-rimmed glasses, I’m suffering brain damage due to spending too much time in the oxygen-poor stratosphere, or something much more sinister is afoot.
But fear not, my dear friends, because West, alien god over these pitiful clockwork souls, is on the case!