Written By: Ryan Thomas Bennett
“Freeze, creep!” lieutenant Vlarsky joked as he shut the precinct door on Robocop which left him in the harsh Detroit winter.
The city of Detroit had been drowning in debt after the introduction of cybernetic police officers in the late 80’s. Though the future of law enforcement put many druglords straight to their deathbeds, the staggering amount of money to keep their modifications up to date was simply no longer possible to afford. Although none of the Robocops needed food, shelter, or even to get paid at all, the Detroit chief of police was tired of having to constantly upgrade their helmet imbedded I-Phones every year. There was a moment there where it looked like Google Glass might be a cheaper alternative, but everyone saw that idea crash before it was released to the public.
Over the years, all of the new druglords figured out to just shoot the Robocops in the exposed lower facial area, thus forcing them into retirement due to not being able to speak and read Miranda rights. The only one who somehow managed to avoid this permanent disfigurement was the original Robocop, Officer Alex Murphy, who now found himself laid off from the only job he ever had, and was metal ankle deep in snow…
On Christmas Eve.
Meanwhile, on 8 mile road, stockmarket millionare Bradley Theodore Buxton was coked out of his mind, plowing through stop lights in his new Jag, and yammering on his Bluetooth.
“Yeah, I gotta get my cock sucked tonight, so I got this broad a 40 carat diamond ring. What??? You think I gotta get her son something? What are ya? Retarded? I’ll just give that little bitch a twenty and tell him to beat it while I donkey punch his ma!” Bradley shouted to whomever the fuck he was talking to.
It was at that exact moment that Bradley slammed right into Officer Alex Murphy who was crossing the road in the heavy blizzard. The Jag was totaled in an instant. Bradley felt nothing but hot bubbling rage as he came out to inspect the barely dented and unconscious Robocop that lay on the ground before him.
“Nevermind that twenty,” Bradley announced, “I think Santa just dropped a present off for that brat.”
Little Jimmy Baton woke up the next morning on Christmas, and a sadness creeped over him. His mom Sandra was having a rough go at life ever since his Dad overdosed on Nuke, a powerful experimental drug from the 80’s. He was bummed that his mom was dating that dork-a-zoid Bradley and figured there would be no presents for him under the tree. He reluctantly crawled out of bed and made his way downstairs, where, to his amazement, a 7 foot tall Robot Man wearing a santa hat stood next to the tree.
“Whaddya say, you lil bastard?” Bradley snarled into his morning cocktail.
“Bradley!” Sandra declared, “It’s Christmas! Go easy on him.”
“What…What is it?” Jimmy asked.
“Only the biggest God Damn action figure in the city,” Bradley replied. “Take it outside, your mom and I are going to listen to Santa Baby on repeat while I go up her chimney!”
Bradley yanked Sandra by the arm and rushed upstairs. Jimmy looked blankly at former Officer Alex Murphy as his red light cyber eye blinked on.
“What are you?” Jimmy asked Robocop.
“I am Officer James Murphy, of the OCP in Detroit. Now, I have no prime directive,” Robocop replied.
“What is a pwime diwective?” Jimmy asked all cute.
“A purpose. I was formerly programmed to protect and serve the citizens of Detroit. That is no longer required of me,” Robocop explained.
“Could you protect and serve my mom and I?” Jimmy asked.
Meanwhile upstairs in the bedroom, Bradley was doing blow off a Def Leppard mirror he stole from a carnival. Sandra was slamming a bottle of rum to brace herself for the unsatisfying bang sesh that was surely to follow. There was a knock at the door.
“That ungrateful little cock snot,” Bradley barked as he went over to the door and opened it, “If you aren’t happy with the toy that I got ya—“
Bradley was stunned as he opened up the door and was greeted by Robocop who now had a one foot metal spike protruding from his fist.
“What the hell is this?” Bradley asked.
“Your services are no longer required,” Robocop declared as he slammed the spike through Bradley’s skull right between the eyes, and lifted his quivering corpse off of the ground.
“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” Robocop joked as Sandra screamed in the background.
Two months later, Jimmy, Sandra, and Robocop sat in a cabana in Belize soaking in the beautiful sunshine. Sandra now got the best backrubs of her entire life, thanks to Robocop’s strong metallic hands. Robocop was wearing jams and size 14 Crocs and for the first time in his life, a half smile formed on the only human part exposed on his massive body.
“Don’t forget to put on suntan lotion, Jimmy,” Sandra said, “You don’t want to burn.”
Jimmy looked at Robocop and winked.
“I don’t think I could ever burn as badly as Bradley did when my new dad threw him into a bonfire to get rid of the evidence,” Jimmy wryly replied.
“Oh, you two!” Sandra giggled as she sipped on her heavy on the rum Pina Colada, which ironically, tasted like Christmas.
“Freeze, creep!” lieutenant Vlarsky joked as he shut the precinct door on Robocop which left him in the harsh Detroit winter.
The city of Detroit had been drowning in debt after the introduction of cybernetic police officers in the late 80’s. Though the future of law enforcement put many druglords straight to their deathbeds, the staggering amount of money to keep their modifications up to date was simply no longer possible to afford. Although none of the Robocops needed food, shelter, or even to get paid at all, the Detroit chief of police was tired of having to constantly upgrade their helmet imbedded I-Phones every year. There was a moment there where it looked like Google Glass might be a cheaper alternative, but everyone saw that idea crash before it was released to the public.
Over the years, all of the new druglords figured out to just shoot the Robocops in the exposed lower facial area, thus forcing them into retirement due to not being able to speak and read Miranda rights. The only one who somehow managed to avoid this permanent disfigurement was the original Robocop, Officer Alex Murphy, who now found himself laid off from the only job he ever had, and was metal ankle deep in snow…
On Christmas Eve.
Meanwhile, on 8 mile road, stockmarket millionare Bradley Theodore Buxton was coked out of his mind, plowing through stop lights in his new Jag, and yammering on his Bluetooth.
“Yeah, I gotta get my cock sucked tonight, so I got this broad a 40 carat diamond ring. What??? You think I gotta get her son something? What are ya? Retarded? I’ll just give that little bitch a twenty and tell him to beat it while I donkey punch his ma!” Bradley shouted to whomever the fuck he was talking to.
It was at that exact moment that Bradley slammed right into Officer Alex Murphy who was crossing the road in the heavy blizzard. The Jag was totaled in an instant. Bradley felt nothing but hot bubbling rage as he came out to inspect the barely dented and unconscious Robocop that lay on the ground before him.
“Nevermind that twenty,” Bradley announced, “I think Santa just dropped a present off for that brat.”
Little Jimmy Baton woke up the next morning on Christmas, and a sadness creeped over him. His mom Sandra was having a rough go at life ever since his Dad overdosed on Nuke, a powerful experimental drug from the 80’s. He was bummed that his mom was dating that dork-a-zoid Bradley and figured there would be no presents for him under the tree. He reluctantly crawled out of bed and made his way downstairs, where, to his amazement, a 7 foot tall Robot Man wearing a santa hat stood next to the tree.
“Whaddya say, you lil bastard?” Bradley snarled into his morning cocktail.
“Bradley!” Sandra declared, “It’s Christmas! Go easy on him.”
“What…What is it?” Jimmy asked.
“Only the biggest God Damn action figure in the city,” Bradley replied. “Take it outside, your mom and I are going to listen to Santa Baby on repeat while I go up her chimney!”
Bradley yanked Sandra by the arm and rushed upstairs. Jimmy looked blankly at former Officer Alex Murphy as his red light cyber eye blinked on.
“What are you?” Jimmy asked Robocop.
“I am Officer James Murphy, of the OCP in Detroit. Now, I have no prime directive,” Robocop replied.
“What is a pwime diwective?” Jimmy asked all cute.
“A purpose. I was formerly programmed to protect and serve the citizens of Detroit. That is no longer required of me,” Robocop explained.
“Could you protect and serve my mom and I?” Jimmy asked.
Meanwhile upstairs in the bedroom, Bradley was doing blow off a Def Leppard mirror he stole from a carnival. Sandra was slamming a bottle of rum to brace herself for the unsatisfying bang sesh that was surely to follow. There was a knock at the door.
“That ungrateful little cock snot,” Bradley barked as he went over to the door and opened it, “If you aren’t happy with the toy that I got ya—“
Bradley was stunned as he opened up the door and was greeted by Robocop who now had a one foot metal spike protruding from his fist.
“What the hell is this?” Bradley asked.
“Your services are no longer required,” Robocop declared as he slammed the spike through Bradley’s skull right between the eyes, and lifted his quivering corpse off of the ground.
“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” Robocop joked as Sandra screamed in the background.
Two months later, Jimmy, Sandra, and Robocop sat in a cabana in Belize soaking in the beautiful sunshine. Sandra now got the best backrubs of her entire life, thanks to Robocop’s strong metallic hands. Robocop was wearing jams and size 14 Crocs and for the first time in his life, a half smile formed on the only human part exposed on his massive body.
“Don’t forget to put on suntan lotion, Jimmy,” Sandra said, “You don’t want to burn.”
Jimmy looked at Robocop and winked.
“I don’t think I could ever burn as badly as Bradley did when my new dad threw him into a bonfire to get rid of the evidence,” Jimmy wryly replied.
“Oh, you two!” Sandra giggled as she sipped on her heavy on the rum Pina Colada, which ironically, tasted like Christmas.