An Artificial Thanksgiving

 A modern American family sits around the dining table, a Thanksgiving feast before them.

 

Debbie: I really miss Grandma.

 

Dad: I know sweetheart, I miss her too. But we left her a chair at the table so she’s here in spirit!

 

Mom: Remember how she used flirt with the cashiers at Trader Joes?

 

Dad: Grandpa never liked it very much!

 

They laugh.

 

Uncle Ike: (Cranky) Yeah I miss her too. Real bad. But as always, it looks like I’m the only one willing to do something about it.

 

Mom: Ike, I’m not crazy about your tone.

 

Debbie: Well, what do you mean Uncle Ike?

 

Uncle Ike: I used my bonus money to buy a brand new robot from one of these AI companies. She has a built-in chatbot that I trained on Grandma’s texts, phonecalls, and the stories that we tell about her. The best part? She’ll eat less cranberry sauce than she used to.

 

No one laughs. A large box in the background bursts open and what is clearly a robot in granny clothes rises like Dracula from his coffin. She’s soulless and uncomfortable to look at.

 

Debbie: Grandma? Is that really you?

 

Grandbot: Happy Thanksgiving everyone? Is that my favorite girl? 

 

Debbie runs up and gives her a big hug. Grandbot turns to Mom.

 

Grandbot: She’s getting fat like I told you she would. 

 

Mom: What?

 

Grandbot: She’s getting fat. 

 

Dad: Grandma!

 

Grandbot: I died still being able to fit into my prom dress but at this rate she won’t fit through the doorway.

 

Mom: Mom, that’s enough! I told you to stop texting me about Debbie’s body. She’s perfect and that’s extremely inappropriate. 

 

Grandbot: Takes after her mother.

 

Dad: You better stop right now or I’ll put you back in that box.

 

Grandbot: Do you work at Trader Joes?

 

Dad: What? No. 

 

She does a horrible robot shuffle towards Dad.

 

Grandbot: Will you be my boyfriend? 

 

Dad: I’m married to your daughter!

 

Grandbot: Fuck me. Take me to the storeroom and fuck me like it’s 1945 and we’ve just beaten the Germans.

 

Mom: Mother!

 

Dad: We don’t have a storeroom.

 

Mom: [Turns to Dad] Eric!

 

Dad: We don’t. 

 

Uncle Ike: No, he’s right. These things get better if you help them with their hallucinations. 

 

Grandbot:  Is that my favorite son?

 

Ike: Hi Mom!

 

She waddles over to Ike and starts kissing him vigorously on the head and cheeks.

 

Grandbot: I always knew you would get into a better college than your sister.

 

Ike: Aw, thanks Mom. 

 

Grandbot: I was shocked that even a state school wanted her.

 

Mom: Mom, that’s enough. 

 

Mom grabs a large knife sticking out of the turkey and runs at Grandbot. Mom stabs Grandbot and rips out her circuitry. 

 

Grandbot: [The power fading from her robot body] So is anyone else going to Church on Sunday or will it just be me againnnnnnn

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Thanks for reading!

Rudolph