Robots and Trampolines

“Buddy, I’m home!” The scientist called out, entering the basement. Calling it a basement might have been an injustice. It was more like an entertainment and fitness space.

Rows and rows of home gym equipment took up most of the front of the room next to the stairs. The exercise equipment, even including the VR exercise bike set-up, had been built himself. He hated the idea of his robot friend being stuck in the room, bored out of its mind, and had always made sure to build another invention for it to play with.

 “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” he said, hurriedly weaving through the makeshift home gym to the rumpus room at the end of it. “I’ve got the wires we need to finish you. I think you’ll be out of this basement by next month!”

He held the wires up in victory as he entered the room, expecting to find his friend. His celebrations were met with darkness. The room was pitch black. He skirted blindly around the billiard table. “Australia is beautiful, you’re going to love getting out.”

Still, no response.

Finally reaching the light switch, and getting worried by the robot’s silence, he noticed one thing as he turned around. At the corner of the room, where there should have been a giant trampoline, was an empty corner. No, not quite empty. On the wall, a small handwritten note sat. 

He rushed over, barely believing what he read.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t keep sitting in this room. 

I need to visit my GF in Japan. 

Love, Robot.

P.S. I put up an ad advertising the trampoline for sale. 

I needed money for the plane tickets, sorry.’

The scientist’s stomach sank. His only friend was gone. The wires clattered to the floor. Worse, he had fallen for another email scam advertising robot GFs. Worry quickly replaced loneliness. The robot, built by his own hands, wasn’t finished yet. There was no predicting how much damage his parts would take moving around outside so early.

He needed to find him before it was too late.