Congratulations on Finding All Those Terminator Robots!

You’re big in to urban exploration, like many people with limited social skills, abundant free time and unemployment checks. But unlike most urban explorers you aren’t doing it out of pure boredom. You’re doing it because you honestly believe that it will help you save the world.

It’s not entirely your fault. A lot of it was your mom, who became obsessed with the Terminator movies during her pregnancy. She stated to develop the unhealthy fixation that your father was Michael Biehn over the course of the pregnancy and, even though you’re half black and she’s albino, she drilled it into your head that you were fated to help mankind fight off the robot hordes.

It hasn’t been all bad. You’ve learned a lot of neat skills along the way. You’ve learned how to read maps, fire guns, survive in the wilderness and navigate sewers without dying horribly.

Unfortunately it crazied you up something fierce, so the only people you’ve been able to relate to are the dregs of society. Luckily some of these people are super cool, but those ones are few and far between. Mostly they’re socially inept fuckwits who can’t even talk about the weather.

Since the majority of these people annoy even you usually go through urban areas solo and then write about your experience online, communicating mostly with the people you actually find bearable. But what you find tonight is going to make you put out the APB to anyone who’s listening.

Tonight you’ll be wandering through the basement level of a metropolitan hospital. We won’t give away the name of the city but here’s a hint: it’s full of fucking robots.

You’ll have just investigated your third lame ass broom closet when you find a whole shitload of them, sitting right there. They won’t be neatly stacked in the corner or standing at arms so much as splayed about randomly, like they’d done a bunch of robot H and then just crashed, but they’ll be there, their red eyes dim, metal claws gleaming in your flashlight.

They’ll look just like the robots from the Terminator movies. Your heart will beat fast and you’ll withdraw your disposable fun cam to take a few quick snapshots before you run the fuck away. You’ll leave the hospital without event and drop the camera at a local Walgreens, praying that the photo-developing-lady isn’t actually a cunning Terminator plant.

Then you’ll get online and blog about it. Everyone will hang on your every last word and before long you’ll have formed the early makings of a resistance movement to combat the machines, even before the pics come back and you start to get national attention.

Which is good, because they’re going to rise up and kill ninety-percent of the population in about a month and a half. We like to call it reverse decimation, or noitamiced. Its not the catchiest turn of phrase, but we thought it was witty when we first wrote it.

It might be avoidable entirely if you were better at organizing large groups, but you’re going to do your best and that’s all your crazy ass momma ever wanted.

Congratulations on Finding All Those Terminator Robots!