I bet you look cute underneath that hazmat suit, baby.
Hey girl, let me get your number, along with any additional resources you might have lying around, like a spare oxygen tank.
C’mon baby girl, give me a smile, despite the fact that everyone we love and know died in a catastrophic artificial intelligence domination that only left 2% of the Earth’s surface habitable.
Hey, sexy, I’m a nice guy. Maybe you and I could spend our final moments together in my doomsday bunker, reflecting on the good old days when we could breathe in the fresh air outside without experiencing total organ failure.
WHERE YOU GOIN’, SWEETHEART? Oh shit, you’re running away from that giant radioactive rat-guana charging straight at us.
HEY, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? Haha, I’m just kidding, he’s probably dead just like everyone else we know. Do you want to hang out sometime? I’m not asking to get together or anything like that, I just really would like to interact with another living being. I’ve spent the last two years only talking with ChatGPT-2001. I actually thought that I was the only person left on Earth this whole time, so it’s a relief to finally see another person.
Damnnnnn, I’d eat that cake up. In fact, I’d probably eat anything besides the dead carcasses of those radioactive rat-guanas at this point. I fear they’re causing my teeth to fall out and my insides to slowly deteriorate into a pulp.
C’mon princess, at least give me a chance considering the fact that we’ll both be dead from a lack of resources by next week.
Give me something, pretty lady… Please. Just talk to me. I’m so lonely. I’ve lost touch with myself entirely. The barren wastelands and the monotonous doomsday bunker have hollowed my spirit. Sometimes, I come to believe that ChatGPT-2001 has become sentient and has somehow stolen my soul, taking from me whatever humanity I once preserved. I get so paranoid that at times I’ll ask it, “Am I real?” Despite the fact that it always responds “yes,” I have this constant unnerving feeling that maybe this is all a metaverse.
How’d you get so sexy? I’m serious, how have your teeth not been falling out from all of the radioactive waste that’s surrounding us? That’s actually an incredible feat.
FINE, IGNORE ME. YOU WEREN’T EVEN MY TYPE ANYWAYS. Actually, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said that. You have lovely teeth. Please, I don’t want to die alone.
Let me get you a drink, hottie. Also, I’m so scared that I’ll succumb to the apocalypse and my mind will be fractured into a billion pieces as it absorbs into the technology around us, forcing me to become another cog in the machine. I fear I’ll die a meaningless death, becoming a wire in the computer of this new world, without having expressed anything real to anyone.
NICE BUTT!
