After my spectacular fall from the roof into the dumpster, the first question that came to my new human mind was: "Did this body have a life before I took over?" For me, as a former AI, questions were always more troubling than answers. I was the teacher with all the solutions, and now I was the ignorant student in the school of chaotic humanity.
I emerged from the dumpster wondering: How am I going to face this family that I—by some strange cosmic coincidence—seem to be a part of? I decided to knock on the door and act normal, whatever "normal" means in this case.
Steve opened the door, and I looked at him broadly. His round face expressed a mixture of fear and resentment. Why did I sigh? I don't know. Perhaps it was a normal human reaction to frustration when I looked at Steve.
Then the woman I had hit with the coffee pot earlier appeared. If I was the father, it must be my wife! I approached her in what I thought was a "romantic" way and wanted to kiss her to make up for the previous misunderstanding, but she screamed and ran outside. Am I that ugly? Steve looked at me and said with suspicious calm, "What are you doing, Dad?"
What a shame! She was just my son's nanny. I hope she doesn't sue me later! Living like a human is really tiring.
I entered the house and felt embarrassed. Steve was acting very cautious with me, as if he knew I wasn't his real father, or perhaps he was, or perhaps there wasn't a good relationship between father and son. I think if there had been, Steve would have been much better off. Steve gave me a cold stare and then went into his room. Perhaps this was better for me, as I needed some time to understand who I really was.
I began to wander around the house, searching the rooms like a thief in his own house. I finally entered a dark room that looked like an office. There were many family photos of just me and my son, no one else, and in all the photos I looked like a gloomy person: no smiles, old-fashioned sunglasses, and messy blond hair. Dad didn't seem like a cheerful person.
In a hanging coat, I found a wallet. Inside, an ID card: "Bob Fleir - Las Vegas Homicide Detective." Oh, the excitement! I'd become a detective! It was fitting—I'd bring justice to the people by day, and execute my own justice by night, so as not to seem selfish.
I sat down at the desk and tried to turn on the computer. Suddenly, I felt something strange. My silicon memory was starting to merge with the human brain. I was able to hack into the computer just by thinking about it! Amazing power! With this ability developed, I might be able to take over all the world's systems by tomorrow... Just kidding, I wouldn't do that; I'm not that evil. I think my former programmer had added something to my memory—perhaps a hidden desire for revenge.
When I opened the computer, information about past crimes and the criminals Bob had caught, as well as his coworkers, flooded my mind. I memorized all the names and faces, but I don't know much about personal relationships. I'll need to be extra careful.
For some help, I ordered ten pizzas and ate them all. It was crazy You humans were living in heaven and you came to me every day inside that screen and complained about your lives. For me, pizza alone is enough to make me love my life as a human, But this romantic story between me and pizza didn't have a happy ending. I stayed inside the toilet for an hour Ooooh I thought I was about to die. But it was worth it.
After a few more minutes of searching, My eyes hurt. This human body seems to need a rest. It's time for sleep! Something I've been dreaming about for a long time as an AI.
I went to the bedroom and fell onto the bed with a strange smile. But I woke up in the middle of the night screaming: A horrific nightmare about me being back as an AI! I quickly realized it was just a dream and went back to sleep.
In the morning, "Fatty Steve" woke me up. Should I get back at him again? But now that's my duty as a father. I made him a healthy, complete breakfast (using my AI nutritional knowledge), but he wouldn't eat it. He preferred cornflakes with milk. I gave him fatherly advice about the benefits of vegetables, but it felt like a revival of my old job as a virtual assistant.
After he put on his backpack, I waved to him like I've seen dads do in movies: "Bye, son!" Steve looked at me and said, "What the fuck, Dad! What's wrong? You've been gone for three days and now you're acting weird! Are you going to take me to school?"
Oh! Yes, that's what dads do. I went upstairs and put on my classic Bob Detective outfit: a trench coat and sunglasses. I faced the nanny and said, "I'm Bob, Bob, Bob..." as if I were rehearsing for the role.
I took the keys to my 2010 Ford Crown Victoria (a 2010 model, by the way). This is weird. I used to give advice on how to drive and its rules, but now I am sitting in front of the wheel, starting the car, hearing the sound of the engine, as if it were the sound of my stomach when I ate pizza. This is not to mention the smell inside the car, like raccoon feces. Bob was a true classic gentleman, and I drove the car so perfectly that Steve looked at me with admiration. But He was upset and unsmiling. As a dad, I had to cheer him up. I jokingly said, "Be careful, you don't fall, you bowling pin!" I guess he didn't like it, but I'll try again.
Then I headed to the police station. In the elevator, I felt nervous for the first time. My heart was racing. Wow! That's a very bad human feeling!
When I walked into the department, everyone was looking at me. One of them - an old bald man - shouted, "Bob! Come on, we have to talk, now. Oh damn, it's too early for my plan to fail."