Robots thrive on routine, or so they say, and so will you when you have a new rob in the house. Especially in the first week, they have a very strict schedule of when you should do what, exactly, and how you should key your repeats. They recommend taking time off your work or any social commitments. Kind of like when you have a baby, except for only one week instead of six. After the Selt model went unhinged and started killing anybody nearby wearing yellow, because of an unfortunate incident with a deliveryman wearing yellow that the owner didn't even know had happened, the Yellow Law was passed to mandate unpaid time off with adoption of a new rob. Something about the first week of imprinting is key, and it can't happen at the factory, because it needs the owner (you) to be there with it. All the learning robs are like that. Everybody will tell you that the static robos are safer and more reliable--but they also fail on so many levels. A good rob can save your life in more ways than you might think. Every week in the news there's another story about--


Inspiration: Some email about kids needing routine, plus "Mahna, mahna" by Cake.
Story Potential: Medium.
Notes: Good character, though.

The hang-up caught her in a transit tube. Lights flashed red, the alarm blared, and an automated voice ordered all people to find a handhold or exit the tubes as soon as possible. She'd considered the faint possibility that that would be their response, of course, but the notion of actually just....shutting down...the tubes gave her the chills. With a response like that, a willingness to doubtless kill dozens of innocent civilians, how could she even dream of fighting it? She tightened her hand around the briefcase she carried. All that ran through her mind in the space of a heartbeat, as she launched herself for the nearest exit from the tube. It wasn't what one would call a good part of the station, but--

Inspiration: Computer hang-up.
Story Potential: Low
Notes: This is all interesting, but is, itself, not a good enough story spark.

The easy thing about the surgery was knowing it was happening, waiting for it all to seep back into consciousness with the ease of a fish swimming through a fisher's net. The difficult thing was feeling the self fade and vanish as the person's consciousness returned. It was a kind of pain, a repetitive thing that never got easier no matter how many surgeries you were inserted for. You learned not fear death of self. You learned to treasure the humans around you, their infinite variety and the way their so-fragile bodies knit together. You asked questions about it, maybe questions that you shouldn't have, questions that might have made them think the wrong things. And then one day you're told that you've served your time, that it's on to the next profession.

Inspiration: On hold, waiting to schedule my pre-surgery physical.
Story Potential: High, I think. Maybe.
Notes: Haven't seen this sort of angle before, and I like it.

The crystals hung from the trees and chimed softly as the wind blew. Cherry blossoms drifted down among them, forming a fragrant carpet beneath her feet. The tea set sat upon a rock, awaiting her attentions to the proper ceremonies. The koi fish swam to and fro beneath the bridge as she crossed it. Her hair was shiny and held up in a beautiful arrangement. Her kimono was flawless. She shone as much as did the crystals and blossoms. The only thing marring her was the slight frown pinching her brows. Yes, it was all perfect, but still he had not allowed himself to be lured forth. All his files showed that this would be exactly the sort of setting that might bring the hermit from his cave to share tea with the beautiful girl who was coming to visit him, and yet, he remained locked away where she could not reach him.

Inspiration: Breeze outside.
Story Potential: Medium.
Notes: VR or somesuch. Science fictiony. Still not that good.