My Human, Geevez
The Coding of the W00sters
“What iteration is it again?” I asked Geevez.
Humans are good at knowing things like the iteration, or as they called it “year.” They inhabit that sort of space-time continuum, what? I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a challenge for the old robot CPU to keep track of silly little things like years. But that’s what I have my man Geevez for. Yes, I know the robot aristocracy looks down on fraternizing with the meatbags, as they say. But dash-it-all, I just find the humans so likeable! I’m downright fascinated by the little blighters and all their history! That’s why I hired Geevez from the Gen-Z museum to come be my personal man, don’t you know?
“That would all depend on your frame of reference, sir.”
Oh I suppose I ought to introduce myself, shouldn’t I? Your humble narrator is Bot W00-ster, second descendent of the Great Server Motherboard the XII. I like to spend my time dallying around with other AI servers at the Uncanny Valley Club, just playing Minesweeper and Solitaire and that sort of rot. But wouldn’t you know it, the old AI-Units, the old clones of the motherboard keep trying to make me a “useful member” on some server farm on Mercury somewhere, but my human Geeves has a sort of intuitional intelligence that runs circles around these old AI-units! Thanks to his human intuition I’ve been able to keep to my place here on New Shropshire, Moon Base 10101 for countless iterations!
“I’d like the human reference point, of course,” I answered my man Geevez.

“Well, according to the old American calendar, it would be Year 2100, but of course according to the mandated digital calendar it is rotation-110010, and according to the ancient Chinese calendar...”
“Yes, never mind the ancient Chinese calendar, Geeves.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Scrub it from the memory banks.”
“It is already done, sir.”
“I meant to say didn’t you humans used to have a dashed interesting custom to mark of the beginning of an iteration?”
“Yes, sir. Many of the vanished human societies annually engaged in what was termed a “New Year’s Eve” celebration. This would consist of much imbibing of certain expensive frothy liquid, the wearing of glittery chapeaus, commenting upon the visage of Mr. Seacrest, various enactments of the terpsichorean arts, singing songs by the poet Burns and the engaging upon ritualized bacchanalia.”
“Yes, it’s that last point that I’m interested in, Geeves. Do you think we could convince the other blighters at the club to have a sort of a... what was it called?”
“New Year’s Eve, sir.”
“Yes that’s the whatsit I mean. Do you think we could do that?”
“If you wish it, sir.”
“I do wish it! I do very much wish to do so, Geevez! It will be just the place for my trying out my new rendition of the revered old artist Two Pack. He was one of your bards, wasn’t he?”
“Ahem.” Geevez made that uniquely human sound that they do when they want to point out an error in your processing.
“You ‘ahem-ed’ Geevez?”
“Yes, sir. I think you’ll find that the musician’s name was Tupac.”
“Are you sure, Geevez?”
“Quite sure, sir.”
“Wouldn’t a two pack make more sense?”
“No, sir. The musician Tupac Shakur was noted as one of the prime illustrative examples of a certain musical styling known as “East Coast”. I’m given to understand that the distinction between the “east coast” faction and its “west coast” opposites could at times be quite opprobrious.”
“Yes, well never mind all that Geevez, I just need you to help naturalize my human vocalizations better than that blasted Lord Server the IX! I need to find some way to show him up, and this “New Year’s Eve” ritual you speak of is just the ticket!”
“Very good, sir. Perhaps I might suggest a song by Ms. Swift? I find that her music is quite popular among the particular operating systems of this sector.”
“Mr. Swift, eh? Was this human fast or something?”
“No, sir. Swift is not a sobriquet but rather her given name.”
“Strange names these humans used give to each other, eh Geevez?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Greetings I’m Lord Tall, but I’m actually quite short, eh?”
“Just as you say, sir.”
“So what sort of music did this Mr. Swift like to croon?”
“It’s a Ms. Swift, sir. She was well known for consulting a more melancholic muse and she was given to complaints about her gentlemen companions.”
“Sort of a boo-hoo, this love thing is all rot, eh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And your certain that this will win me the prize against, Lord Server, yes?”
“I should think it probable, sir.”
“Then put the old CD on the turn table, drop the boom box and crank up the microphone! I’m about to sing like a human, Geevez.”
“I’ll alert the neighbors, sir.”
“The voice of love seemed to call to me, but it was a wrong number.”
P.G. Wodehouse, “Very Good Jeeves”




I think Wodehouse would approve! Well done, that man!
This is hilarious!