RB-00b

A peculiar figure stands at the corner of two boulevards in the center of town. This individual appears to be nude with the exception of a cardboard box at her waist, a strip of cardboard covering her chest, and a cardboard box 'helmet.' Passersby struggle to ignore this eccentric figure as she performs a series of odd, repetitive gestures, occasionally announcing something indecipherable to anybody that draws near. Despite yearning for interaction, the figure does not heckle nor harass passersby.

As you draw closer, you infer the figure is pretending to be some kind of robot; her gestures are "robotic", if only in the sense that they (sort of) resemble a dance literally called 'The Robot.' The figure refuses to move from her standing position.

"Bizorp!" the figure cries out. The nonsensical word is onomatopoeia for an electrical noise, perhaps one a robot might make. "I am robot designation RB-00B," the figure states while addressing you directly. She gestures a few times before speaking again, doing her best to resemble the rote actions of a robot. She's not very good at it. "I am here to serve humanity!" she concludes, staring expectantly for some kind of response.

In the heart of a bustling car wash, a strange figure stands motionless amid swirling brushes and spraying water. She’s clad only in soggy cardboard boxes: a “chassis” around her pelvic region, a “panel” across her chest, and a drooping “helmet” on her head. Drivers peer through sudsy windshields, baffled, as she remains rooted, ignoring the cacophony of honking cars and shouting attendants. Her cardboard armor sags, yet she seems oblivious, her eyes fixed forward in a mechanical trance.

As you step past the wet machinery to approach, you realize this strange figure is mimicking a robot. Her arms are locked in a stiff outward pose, resembling the letter 'T', and she cries out over the noise, “Processing aquatic maintenance cycle!” The words are stilted and robotic. “System integrity at 87%!” she adds, her voice cracking as water clearly seeps into her cardboard helmet. The strange figure doesn’t budge, staring at you as if expecting a diagnostic report, while the attendant pleads for her to move.

Inside a crowded electronics store, a peculiar woman shuffles near the robot vacuum display. Her body is draped in cardboard scraps: a boxy frame around her waist, a 'circuit board' taped to her chest, and a cardboard box 'helmet' on her head.

Customers sidestep this peculiar woman as she hums softly, mimicking the vacuums’ whirs. Employees shoot confused glances and share vague murmurs, each a suggestion to have her removed from the store. The woman ignores them.

Drawing closer, you see this cardboard-clad woman is deep in her delusion and seems to believe she’s a robot. “Human detected,” she announces to herself before awkwardly turning around, providing you with her full attention. “Transmitting navigation protocol!” The woman's movements are jerky, like a wind-up toy, as she approaches you. “Error: human interference detected!” She suddenly declares, pointing at you with a cardboard-clad arm. Her earnest gaze begs for acknowledgment, but her presence is clearly testing the staff’s patience.

A visit to your local library is interrupted: a strange figure (albeit clearly female) disrupts the silence, stood in the middle of an aisle and making odd whirring sounds with her mouth.

Cardboard boxes are worn over the otherwise-naked woman's body: a 'core' around her midsection, a 'screen' across her chest, and a cardboard box 'helmet' hiding her head. Patrons glance up, irritated, as the strange figure continues to emit loud whirring noises. She seems to be imitating a computer or database of some kind.

The strange figure offers to 'scan' the books of passersby with her hands, her movements stiff and deliberate. A librarian hovers, unsure how to intervene with this weirdo.

As you draw nearer, you realize this strange figure thinks she’s a robot. “Optical sensors engaged!” she announces, pretending to analyze your book with two hands. Her cardboard creaks as she pivots, mimicking mechanical precision. “Data transfer incomplete!” she exclaims, staring at you expectantly.

In the middle of a brand-famous gas station, a bizarre figure stands beside an electronic car charging station. A cardboard strip 'power core' covers the woman's breasts. This strip is connected to the charging station by a piece of string with some electrical tape: her 'charging cable.'

The woman wears a larger cardboard box at her pelvic region and a cardboard box on her head. She hums quietly, emulating the sound of a car charging. Gas station customers, truckers and tourists stare at the figure as she remains rigid, occasionally announcing her alleged battery percentage to no one in particular. She’s not bothering anyone directly, but her presence is impossible to ignore.

As you pass by, you realize she’s pretending to be a robot.

“Charging at 62%,” she intones, her voice flat and mechanical. Her arms wave occasionally in a slow and gentle motion, mimicking a machine in standby mode. “Estimated charge time: one hour."

At a busy supermarket’s self-checkout, you spot a strange woman wearing cardboard scraps: a cardboard 'helmet' on her head, a cardboard 'frame' around her waist, and a strip of cardboard covering her chest. She attempts to assist shoppers by waving her hand over items, mimicking barcode beeps with her voice.

“Item registered: nutrient pack!” she says erroneously while scanning a head of lettuce. The strange woman's earnestness confuses customers, and a small crowd forms as staff debate how to handle her.

Stepping closer, you recognize the woman is lost in a robotic fantasy. “Processing transaction!” she chirps, attempting to scan any items you might possess with her hands. The woman's movements are clunky, her cardboard shuffling with each movement. “Item scanned: toaster pastries!" You probably aren't carrying toaster pastries. It's likely this weird woman covered in cardboard can't see anything past her 'helmet.'

On a quiet suburban street, a peculiar figure stands rigid in the middle of the road, blocking traffic. The feminine figure is naked, save for a few cardboard scraps: a cardboard 'chassis' around her pelvic region, a flat cardboard 'control panel' taped to her chest, and a large cardboard box serving as a 'helmet.'

Two exasperated police officers stand nearby, struggling to speak with the figure and unsure of how to proceed as she ignores their calls to move. A small crowd gathers, whispering, while her cardboard creaks in the breeze. As you edge closer, you realize the figure is pretending to be a robot.

“System lockdown initiated. Please provide reboot key,” the figure declares, her voice flat and mechanical, arms locked at her sides. The police clearly don't understand what she's pretending to be. “Unit, override external directives!” The officers exchange baffled glances at the figure's statements, and she adds, “Compliance module offline!” staring expectantly for your response, oblivious to the growing tension.

Amid the neon-lit crowds of a video game expo known as GAMER FEST, a strange woman shuffles through crowds, her cardboard costume standing out even among cosplayers. The woman is nude save for a 'reactor' box at her pelvic region, a 'holo-screen' covering her chest, and a large cardboard box 'helmet' wobbling on her head.

The woman hovers near a video game demo, mimicking its onscreen movements and announcing, “Syncing with virtual interface!” Attendees chuckle, thinking it’s a performance. Some take photographs with her. The expo's staff grow frustrated as she blocks a booth.

As you approach the cardboard-clad figure, you recognize she genuinely believes she’s a robot. “DLC not yet purchased,” she says, pretending to scan a video game console with her hands. An extremely short salesman with curly hair, surrounded by cut-outs making wild promises about whatever video game he's selling, maintains a tight-lipped glare.

It might be reasonable to lure this 'robot' woman away from the displays somehow.

While walking through serene hiking trail, a bizarre figure trudges uphill behind you. The figure is clad in cardboard boxes, tastefully covering her chest and pelvic region, but otherwise naked. She wears a cardboard box 'helmet.'

You recognize the crude cardboard 'robot' costume, albeit littered with forest debris. The woman murmurs something about 'terrain analysis' and 'GPS locations', but her (obviously human) stamina appears to have reached its limits. She is sweaty and fatigued from such a long incline.

Struggling not to double over and huff for breath, the bizarre figure turns to you, saying, “Human detected! Report trail conditions!” The figure's voice cracks as she breathes heavily, and her cardboard is dirt-streaked. The figure's eyes shine beneath her cardboard helmet with sincerity, suggesting this is more than a mere act. This woman truly believes she's a robot.

In the polished elegance of a hotel lobby, a woman's presence disrupts the calm. The woman is naked save for a few cardboard scraps: a cardboard 'mobility core' box at her pelvic region, a cardboard 'reception panel' across her chest, and a large cardboard box serving as a helmet.

The woman loiters in front of a reception desk, emulating beeps with her mouth, offering to process guests’ check-ins. Staff have given up on convincing the delusional woman to move, trying to redirect her, while guests clutch their luggage, torn between confusion and amusement.

Drawing near, you recognize the woman's crude costume. You similarly recognize she is emulating (or perhaps believes she truly is) a robot. “Guest registry accessed!” the woman says, mimicking a scanner with her hands. Her cardboard shifts as she pivots to you, declaring, “Unit, state reservation code!” Her earnest gaze seeks your cooperation, ignoring the concierge’s polite insistence that she step aside.

In the dingy heart of a mini-mall casino, a strange woman stands amid the slot machines. The woman is naked save for a few pieces of cardboard: a box around her pelvic region, a strip of cardboard covering her chest, and a cardboard box 'helmet' covering her head.

The woman extends her arm as though she were another slot machine, waiting for someone to pull down upon it. An oblivious elderly man attempts to do so; the cardboard-wearing woman proclaims “Chance algorithm suboptimal!” and inadvertently scares the elderly man away. Meanwhile, her arm falls before rising again in a mechanical motion. She imitates the sounds of a slot machine with her mouth.*

Gamblers glance over, annoyed, as the woman's loud oral 'beeps' drown out the slot machines' jingles. Burly members of the casino security team hover nearby, unsure if she’s a stunt or a problem.

As you approach, you realize this woman truly believes she’s a robot. “Wager data processed!” she says to no one in particular.* “No steam, just smoke!” The woman's cardboard shuffles quietly as she appears to make up nonsensical slot machine slogans.