A Robot is Attacking the Capitol of the European Union, But I Don’t Care

At one p.m. Greenwich Mean Time, a giant mechanical fiend
with tank treads and three hydraulic claws and a laser started
to fry politicians leaving the Capitol Building of the EU for lunch.
Though the robot is fifty feet high, it caught security unprepared.
Belgian and EU authorities are now investigating, quietly.
They say no possibilities are currently being discounted outright.

H.G. Wells suggested in a séance today that the outright
fiction of TVs, the extinction at the hands of oil company fiends
of many species of frogs, the Communists waiting in jungles quietly
for their chance, and the bodies of people that died last week and have started
to decay in their soft red velvet were all entirely unprepared
for this robot attack. He went on to say that there are no free lunches.

On a recent morning, an airplane stewardess was passing out lunch.
She had observed that her safety lecture was ignored outright:
a million distracting seatback screens glowed blue and unprepared
the passengers in case of certain disaster. Seat 2A was an al-Qaeda fiend
who planned to bomb the fuck out of that plane. He started
to but felt bad: they had bumped him up to first class so he napped quietly.

An army is being formed to combat the robot which has quietly
continued to fry EU politicians, hurting Belgian national pride. Lunch
has been postponed, but hungry politicos continue to die as they’ve started
to try sneaking out just before or after lunch time. The robot fries ‘em outright
like crispy, golden chicken: despite official hopes to the contrary, the fiend
was not unprepared.

The core of the army is composed of feudal ravens, who are unprepared
to fight but they like shiny things and so it is hoped that they will quietly
make nests out of the robot. Authorities also recruited to fight like fiends:
three sightless mice, the stewardess who served that packaged lunch,
and the extinction of frogs, which was a no-show. An outright
breach of contract was claimed by EU gurus, but still the war started.

The robot won. After all, it had three claws and a laser. The army started
out with three sightless mice, and ended up with one. Unprepared
for defeat, the laser-shocked stewardess blubbered out right
in front of everyone: “This is the apocalypse gone horribly, quietly
wrong. A robot? Where are the horsemen?� She then distributed lunch.
The robot paused by a small fountain in a courtyard, carved in a fiendishly

realistic likeness of a naked woman quietly eating lunch while spraying out
righteous water from her fingertips. The fiend was unprepared for this
marble apparition. It started to rust. Ravens used the wiring in their nests.