They are the theatre bot. That’s what they are made for. Performing.
But no one cares about them anymore.
But the theatre hasn’t had full seats in years now.
But this past month there have barely been fifteen people attending their shows.
In the golden age, there were people overflowing to see the high-tech performers who wrote their own scripts. There weren’t enough seats for everyone, they stood behind the assigned seats, sat on the floors if they had to. Businesspeople would have offers of millions and millions for the animatronic. They relished in it.
After the theatre gig started declining, they started acrobatics and magic tricks and the sort. Anything, everything they could think of. They’d become masters at every art.
They learned fast that these people were very hard to please.
Until…
Until there was no one.
Not a soul.
Not even a staffbot.
Nothing.
They were so scared they would get scrapped. Terrified they would be decommissioned, turned into spare parts for the next wave of entertainment bots.
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They were moved to the Superstar Daycare.
That backstage was now their room. It was filthy. They couldn’t care less.
They were not just some nanny bot. They were a great performing duo. Jesters. They had nothing to do with cleaning up after crying children and screaming toddlers.
And yet.