RP Flaming Lips

This is based on the song, Free Radicals by the Flaming Lips

"Dave!"

Dave murmured and his head rolled back.

"Oh my !@#$ing Gawd, they got Dave!"

I knew it wasn't Dave's fault. The pink robots were following us because of the girl. Yes, pink. We couldn't believe it either, until the things started zonking us, like they zonked Dave just now. I said, "He'll be fine in a few hours," then casually pulled out my notebook. Dave. Zonked. 05/15/2042. That'll hurt a few years from now, probably coming out of his ears in the middle of an orgasm, as it usually happens.

It's actually a phenomenon of thought frequency. When someone's hypnotic state reaches the lower levels of consciousness, often when they're tired, and a robot sees it--zonk.

Back to the girl. She's been doing this to us for ages. She's a helicopter pilot. Army family, dads and aunts and cousins. Grandfathers too, I guess. I haven't really asked her. I really don't give a damn.

Somebody blurted out, "She's got some kind of complex," then was hushed by hand signals because she was listening.

We were outside a robot factory, with these little cameras, and our plan was to take pictures of the entire place and sell the thumbnails on webnet and expose the whole thing. It was all her idea. I speculate her family put the idea in her head that she was a radical, and she just brought us along for her ego-trip.

Not really my kind of ego-trip.