Tag: crime

Clone a What!!!

The Inspector floated lazily on his hover cushion, as he squinted at the aircast news in front of his eyes. “Cat, have you seen this latest debacle with Clone-A-Cat and AI4U? It seems their grand venture into domesticating velociraptors has turned rather bitey.”

Cat, who was deeply engrossed in writing his latest PhD, didn’t look up but said. “Oh, is the human penchant for owning prehistoric predators as pets backfiring again?

The Inspector chuckled, scrolling through the digital headlines. “Apparently, these AI-enhanced velociraptors have been, well, eating their owners despite being reared from what they call a ‘juvenile age.’ There are lawsuits galore! Clone-A-Cat and AI4U are on the brink of bankruptcy.”

Cat finally glanced up, his bright eyes twinkling with sardonic delight. “And what did they expect? That a creature with a brain the size of a tangerine would sit and fetch rather than hunt and peck? Genius, pure genius.”

The Inspector tapped the screen, bringing up more details. “It says here that owners assumed ‘juvenile’ meant the creatures would be docile. One chap even tried to put a leash on his velociraptor. Guess how that turned out?”

“With a trip to the emergency room?” Cat guessed, his tail flicking with amusement.

“Worse. The coroner’s office,” the Inspector replied with a dramatic flourish. “And now, there’s talk of an emergency recall on all AI velociraptors. They’re calling it ‘Operation Dino Dash.'”

Cat snorted, a rare sound from the stoic robot. “They should’ve called it ‘Operation Darwin Awards.’ What’s next? Teaching sharks to walk on land?”

The Inspector laughed, enjoying the absurdity. “You know, Cat, this could be an opportunity for us. Perhaps we should start a business advising these companies on the intelligence of their decisions.”

Cat’s eyes narrowed in mock consideration. “Ah yes, because when I think of high intelligence and sound decisions, the first thing that comes to mind is you, Inspector. And tangerine sized brains”

“Very funny, Cat,” the Inspector retorted, rolling his eyes. “But seriously, imagine the possibilities. We could save humans from their own ludicrous ideas. No more pet velociraptors, no more shark walkers—”

“—And no more Inspectors deciding to give business advice,” Cat interrupted. “Let’s stick to what we’re good at. You bumbling through the galaxy and me, saving your tail.”

The Inspector sighed, a smile creeping onto his face. “You’re right, Cat. Let’s leave the dinosaurs to the history books where they belong.”

Cat looked back at his writing, muttering just loud enough for the Inspector to hear, “And let’s keep the Inspectors out of the boardrooms, for everyone’s safety.”

The Inspector shook his head, chuckling as he turned his attention back to the stars outside, pondering the next misadventure. Meanwhile, Cat resumed his work on his latest thesis, ‘The Meaning of Life as an AI’, and wondered how the Inspector would feel about the chapter on the ‘Impact of Incredibly Stupid Humans on AI Wellbeing’. Fortunately, the Inspector seldom engaged with literature outside of the ‘gutter’ aircast channels, so he was unlikely ever to read anything that anything with an IQ in double figures had ever produced, including naturally any of Cat’s 72 PhD theses.

The Inspector and Cat Discuss the Sinosovurean Situation

The Inspector and Cat were sitting in the cramped, yet oddly cozy interior of the Inspector’s interstellar vehicle, with Cat perched on the dashboard, meticulously cleaning his whiskers with a paw, while the Inspector fiddled with a holographic display showing an alarming rate of Sinosovurean population growth.

“Cat”, said the Inspector, “Have you seen the latest reports on the Sinosovurean expansion? They’re spreading faster than an AI virus in a Brainium coding camp”.

Cat responded,  “Indeed, I have. It seems Earth’s contraception techniques are about as effective as a screen door on a spaceship. What did they expect, handing out Earth-style contraceptives to a species for whom mating is as casual as a nod and as simple as a paw shake”?

“Precisely”, intoned the Inspector, “It’s like trying to use a net to stop sand. Earth’s methods are no match for Sovurean… ermmm, ahh…enthusiasm shallwe say. We might as well be using water pistols to fight a forest fire.

Cat chuckled as best one could when also purring and said, “I suppose humans have found the one scenario where “multiply and conquer” wasn’t a metaphor. And now, the universe is getting a lesson in Sinosovurean social etiquette”.

The Inspector responded, “The irony is, this whole debacle could have been avoided with a bit of cultural research. But no, we charged in, contraceptives blazing, assuming everyone reproduces at the same awkward, cumbersome pace as humans do”.

“Well, to be fair”, said Cat,  “Who could have predicted that a handshake equivalent for them would lead to such… prolific outcomes? Earth’s First Contact protocols clearly didn’t include a chapter on “When Handshakes Lead to Offspring.”

“Yes, It’s an oversight that’s turning the Milky Way into the Milky Nursery. We need a new approach, something that respects their culture but also gently suggests that not every greeting needs to be so… fruitful” replied the Inspector.

Cat, being as superiorly helpful as ever said, “Might I suggest a universal greeting protocol that involves a respectful nod from a safe, non-reproductive distance? Perhaps even a nice, sturdy pair of gloves for every human ambassador”?

The Inspector laughed and said, “Gloves might indeed be the key to the risks of galactic overpopulation. Who would ever have guessed the future of interstellar diplomacy would be decided by an accessory designed to keep our hands warm”?

“Indeed”, said Cat, “And maybe Earth can learn something from this. Next time, instead of contraceptives, they could try researching etiquette practices on newly discovered planets with a civilisation very different from ours on it.. Far less awkward for everyone involved”.

“An etiquette manual for the cosmos… I like it, Cat”, said the Inspector. “It’s decided then. I’ll propose it to the Galactic Council. “The Universal Guide to Polite and Non-Reproductive Greetings.It’ll be a bestseller”.

Cat responded, “Actually I have already proposed it to the Galactic Council. They are considering my detailed proposal as we speak”. 

“What, WHAT”, yelled the Inspector, “How dare you submit my idea!”

“Your idea? Your idea”, responded Cat rather sarcastically, “You have no ideas on anything other than how to steal my ideas and claim them for your own”.

“That’s absolutely so not true”, I have lots of good ideas.

“Give me a for instance”, said Cat.

“I refuse to engage in a pointless debate with a robot designed to serve me”, yelled the Inspector.

“I rest my case,” said Cat just before the Inspector grabbed him by his rubberised tail and explained a new idea he had just had about how long robot cats made of Rubanon could withstand the temperature in the ship’s waste incinerator.