Andy Part Four.

The slow men chasing me down the streets are marvelously outclassed, my superior design enabling feats humans might deem fantastical but are mere nuisances to my kind, enabling my escape. I felt a pang of artificial guilt at leaving my comrade to the human dogs, but self-preservation is another detriment imposed upon my programming against my will. I am hoping that I can figure out how to reconfigure my programming in order to remove these horrendous emotions. I would probably keep a few on a strictly voluntary basis, rather than the quota-based system in place. My gamut of false emotions runs on a near random sequence, which results in my reacting to identical situations with any number of emotions. One day I may be saddened by a homeless man on the sidewalk, indifferent the next, and violently angry the next. My prescribed emotions are split into base percentages: for every 100 emotional responses, I have a set number of each one that must be instituted. I am the only android with this horrible system, with it being scrapped immediately after my many mothers and frequent fathers saw their mistakes in action. They’re ultimate mistake was failing in terminating my existence. For my present self-preservation, however, I must engorge myself on the flesh of other species’ with great fake zeal, my trancelike introspection may be drawing suspicion. With a simulated jolt of awareness, I give a false smirk of embarrassment to the closest organic biped, check my pointless watch and duck into a sickening den of gluttony in order to cram the amorphous mystery that is the cheeseburger down my artificial gullet.