Yesterday I was sitting in my parents' living room with my brother and sister when our five-year-old brother came downstairs.
“I am a robot,” he told us. “I know everything.”
“What’s two plus two?” I asked the robot.
“Easy,” he replied. You would think that if you knew everything there would be no easy or hard questions, just questions, but whatever. “It’s four.”
“What’s five plus five?” my other brother asks.
“Ten,” the robot replies confidently.
“What’s the square root of 16?” my sister asks. The robot narrows his eyes. We stare at it, waiting for this all-knowing machine to tell us the answer.
It sighs. “Well, I guess I have to do this now.”
The robot pulls out his toy lightsaber and slaughters all three of us.
There is a story idea in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.