Current Events > CYOA: Your Kellogg's-sponsored android clone has arrived.

(+) Yeah! (+)

At long last, the day has finally come. It's been three months since you tore open that box of Frosted Flakes, dialed the seventeen digit phone number on the box top, and repeated the redemption code "ALPHA INDIA BRAVO OSCAR YANKEE TANGO INDIA MIKE ECHO" into the receiver. The CIA was at your door within the hour, ready to brief you on what you've won - an android designed to look and behave exactly like you.

You also found a whistle in the box.

For the next three months, the CIA monitored your every move while it developed your android. They watched you while worked as a cashier at the Wawa, while you played video games with your roommate, and unfortunately, during your private bedroom time. "Don't worry," the project manager told you. "We know you've been suppressing your most shameful kinks while we've been monitoring you. Rest assured that when your android arrives it will watch pornography 45% most perverse than what you've recently pleasured yourself to."
"I'd prefer if my android didn't masturbate at all," you contested.
"Ah, but it must," the manager said. "If it didn't. then it wouldn't be you."

Face pressed to your front window, you wait anxiously for the shipment to arrive. Your roommate Reggie emerges from his room in a bathrobe. "Not here yet, huh?"
"Any minute now."
"Nervous?"
"Excited," you reply. "Think of how much free time I'll have with this thing doing my job for me down at the Wawa. I could get a side hustle. Make a little extra dough. Or do nothing and just play video games."
"Probably the second one," Reggie guesses.
"Probably the second one," you agree. "But either way, no more Wawa for me."
"Well I'm going to take a shower. Hopefully I'll see you both when I'm done," he excuses himself.

Finally, you watch a tractor trailer truck with Kellogg's painted on the side back into your driveway. You excitedly throw open the front door and jog into the yard. The back of the truck opens a man in a black suit and sunglasses hops out. His suit jacket looks strained against his muscular build, and his bald head soaks up the first sunshine it's likely seen all day. He flashes you his badge and asks in a gruff voice, "Stanley Olson?"
You nod.
The man nods back and puts his badge away. "I'm Agent Nielsen, Central Intelligence Agency. I'm sure you know why we're here."
"Yes, sir."
"You are about to be issued a brand new, state-of-the-art artificial intelligence designed to mimic your exact behavior and personality. This is your last chance to back out," he tells you.
"No way," you shake your head.
"Good, because you can't back out anyway. We spent billions on this thing."

A familiar voice calls out from behind the truck, "Where's the dolly?"
Agent Nielson sighs. "It's ON the truck."
"I'm on the truck," the voice calls back.
"Yes! You were sitting next to it on the way over here," Agent Nielson shouts.
A second man peers out into view. He's wearing the same suit and sunglasses as Agent Nielson. In fact, he looks identical to him, save for the black bowler hat hiding his scalp.
"What did I say about the hat, buddy?" Agent Nielson asks, annoyed. "I said no, remember?
As the second Nielson proudly adjusts his bowler hat, you ask the first one, "Is that your clone android?"
"No," he responds.
"I'm Agent Nielson!" the second agent introduces himself.
"He's my twin brother," Nielson 1 explains.
"I like piss porn!" Nielson 2 shouts.
"We don't yell that, buddy. Okay?" Nielson 1 advises his partner. Nielson 2 disappears into the truck again to make a second run at finding the dolly.
"Oh God, is mine gonna shout about piss porn?" you ask nervously.
"Not unless you watched something similar in the last three months. Look," Nielson 1 motions in the direction of Nielson 2, "-that's not an android. That's just my twin brother who craves an identity outside of being a twin and a CIA agent. He's just trying out the hat."
"Hmpf," you fidget. "And yelling out his more shameful kinks."

Nielson 2, still sporting the bowler hat, triumphantly wheels a large steel case off the truck. The case looks like what rock bands use to transport amps and speakers. "Are you guys the CIA or roadies for Metallica?"
"We are the CIA!" Nielson 2 exclaims.
"Would you have preferred we brought him in a big box labelled android? We're trying to be inconspicuous here."
"Wha... Inconspicuous? There's a tractor trailer in my driveway, two men dressed in suits shouted about pee, and now it looks like band equipment's being pushed into my house."
Nielson 1 puts his arm around your shoulders and leads you back into the house, Nielson 2 in tow with your clone. "Hey, I understand you might be worried, but my twin's just uh... a little eccentric. He's not an android. Now I can't give you the specifics, but this isn't exactly the first time we've done this and nothing's gone wrong. These things are capable of passing the most advanced Turing tests with flying colors."
Nielson 2 flips some of the locks on the box. "Do you remember during our childhood in Missouri when you fell in the mud puddle? It was April 5, 1978. What I like the most about that day, is that the latitude was 38 degrees."
"That's not a thing a child would know," Nielson 1 whispers.
"Okay he's clearly an android," you cross your arms.
Simultaneous replies of "No he's not," and "We are the CIA!" wash over you.

The box opens and inside is... you. You have to admit, they made this thing look exactly like you. Right down to the scar on the left palm from when you cut your hand on broken glass rolling down a hill in the park.
"Impressive, eh? And once we turn it on, the only difference between you and it will be the two endorsements for Kellogg's it must make every 24 hours."
"What?"
"Hey, they foot the bill for a lot of the R&D so... hands are tied on this one. He'll be subtle," Nielson 1 assures you.
"It's 10:17," Nielson 2 announces.
"What are you announcing the time for?" Nielson 1 asks.
"It's good to know these things," Nielson 2 answers.
"Okay, if you're going to announce the time, you need a reason."
"It's almost 10:20!" Nielson 2 says defiantly.
"Do we have an appointment at 10:20?" Nielson 1 asks.
"No," comes the response.
"Not a good enough reason then." Nielson 1 instructs his brother. Sensing your extreme apprehension, Nielson 1 quickly helps your android out of its box. "Alright, buddy. Let's get this steel box outta here and let Stanley enjoy his android."
"More like a Standroid," Nielson 2 says, expressionless.
Nielson 1 laughs and pats his brother on the arm. "That was good. That was a good one." He then takes a business card out of his pocket and hands it to you. "Call us if you need anything." As you accept the card, Nielson 2 takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. Nielson 1 grabs his arm gently and asks, "What are you giving him?"
"Business card," Nielson 2 answers.
"We have the same business card, he doesn't need that one."

---

Nielson 2 extends the paper to you. It's much longer than a business card.
"That's not a business card, buddy. What is that?"
You accept the paper and read it over. "This is a receipt for a studio equipment case from Guitar Center."
Nielson 1 takes back the receipt and he lectures his partner. "We paid for that out of pocket, we need this if the agency's going to reimburse us." Nielson 1 takes one last look over your living room before pressing a button on his phone. "Good luck, Mr. Olson."

The Standroid opens its eyes. You'll never be able to get a side hustle if your android's going to act like Nielson 2. What do you do?

A) Test the Standroid to see if it can imitate you.
B) Bring the Standroid to see your parents. If it can fool your parents, it should be good enough to fool the Wawa managers.
C) Pivot and treat the Standroid like your twin brother.
D) Let the Standroid act on instinct and just observe it.

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Tag/bump, will probably read tomorrow

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you know people are just going to say fuck it

I, personally, am against that

anyway, I vote let it do what it wants

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Bump

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