Ancient Machinery

[reliarobot]

From jame7t on tumblr: A congregation of vast and terrible war machines, ponderous in their calculations after so many eons of service, have arrived at Starbucks

The lead machine rumbles to a halt outside the drive-through. A harpoon launches through the air, impaling the speaker, then rapidly balloons as hidden chambers rupture to establish a direct-contact connection with the enemy infowar suite. A burst of static makes the drive-through operator wince, flinching out of the awed stare she'd been stuck in, watching the war machines arrive.

There's... something, once the static clears. A kind of rhythmic chanting, muted and distant. Layered over the sound are the clipped, precise tones of something with the firepower to completely level the entire city they're in.

"32 Large Coffees. Black."

"Uh." says the operator.

The rhythmic chanting in the background has stopped, replaced by a muted wailing, the computerized cries of the damned, roasting in their digital hell for all time. The operator feels a single drop of sweat roll down her temple. She swallows. "W-will that be all...?"

For several moments, the machine does not respond. The cries in the background raise in intensity, and then finally there's another burst of static and the machine speaks again.

"And as many brownies as you can sell us."

The background noise turns to cheers as hundreds, thousands of tiny machines pop up out of the joints and hatches of the ancient war machines, brandishing mechanical equipment and unfathomable weaponry, waving them in the air as they perform tiny victory dances.

The operator, dazed, voice acting on its own, says, "pull up to the window, please"

Comments

Wow!

[ysabetwordsmith]

That is one of the best hairpin turns of expectation that I have seen. <3

Re: Wow!

[reliarobot]

😄❤️

[siliconshaman]

Followed Ysbet here.. very nicely done!

Although what's the ancient war machines going to do when asked to pay? If the poor barista has the nerve to ask that is?!

[reliarobot]

Even odds between thousand year old war bonds or solid ingots of compressed enemy machines

Either way, tough to make change for

[siliconshaman]

Barista staring at several bars of scrap gold and platinum, each as long as her forearm, each probably worth more than the entire shop itself.

"Um.. sir, that's..."

The ancient machine looks up from it servo arms full of brownies and coffee. It clears it's throat.. or at leats, it makes a sound like someone clearing their throat if you ignore the thousands of tiny voices whispering behind the sound.

"Keep... the...change."

The ... head.. at least the box like thing with the mismatched lenses and the 'neck' shaped like a cross between an angle-poise lamp and some industrial machinery, nods at the bewildered teenager.

"It's...a.. tip."