Curse of the Programming

 

BadPoet™ took one last look in the mirror. Not for the first time, he cursed his model’s programming. His wrinkles were coming in nicely as was his receding hairline.

“Today you will evoke emotion,” he told his reflection before letting his eye slip to the window. He contemplated the passing planet.

Today will be different.

On the flight deck there was a dais. On the dais stood BadPoet™ and, surrounding him, was the flight crew curled in laughter.

Today was not different.

“And in the dying light,
We hold on for our might,
Against the sight,
of our frights.”

“The only fright here is this awful poem,” the second-in-command boosted. “Captain, I love our new jester.”

The word stung. He tried to balm it with the fact that laughter was a physical reaction of the emotion ‘happiness’. He evoked that response – he did it.

The thought lifted his spirits up and until the rehydratable tomato hit him in the face.

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