August 18, 2004


I’m in the army and a robot is my best buddy. This is great except yesterday I had to watch my buddy’s head get blown off. We were crawling through a ditch on our bellies when there was a sudden flash of light and ka-boo, no robot head. I was grief-stricken because I really loved that robot. Also this was supposed to be a training session and nobody said anything about explosions and blown-up heads. Holding back tears I went up to Sarge and said, “Sarge, they blew the head off my best buddy.” Sarge shrugged and told me to shake it off. Typical Sarge.

Next morning I’m cleaning my gun and thinking about that blown-up head when Sarge introduces me to my new best buddy. This one looks and acts exactly like the last one except he can’t remember anything I told the last one. I guess all those conversations got blown up with his head.

The new one knows all the jokes told by the last one and tells them the same way. They’re all jokes about robot soldiers. For example:

Question: How many robot soldiers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Answer: One.

None of the jokes are funny, but I used to laugh anyway because I didn’t want to hurt my buddy’s feelings. Now I can’t laugh anymore. My new buddy doesn’t seem to notice this – or he if does, he never shows that he does. Instead he just pretends that I laughed and moves on to the next joke.