As I grip the shoe string in my teeth, like a lover's rose, I promenade across the club, to the great amusement of my friends, who are all robots. Having quit human company altogether, I hearken in zest to their electronic quips and outbursts, their ejaculations of mirth, their programmed responses, which include cynicism, revelry, comedic participation and common banter, with phrases like, "you incorrigible show pony", "you pretentious, masquerading creature of the night", "you steam punk goggled latex paragon of manhood". These are the playful rejoinders which grace my ears as the club music pumps its determined beat... I find my inner dancer and loop and hop and glide and swoon and my robot possie are suitably titillated, flashing red lights and grinning robot teeth...
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