Tromboid F01-5200 & The Hungry HumanObject
Once upon a time, in the shiny, blinking city of Ohmsville, there lived a young robot named Tromboid F01-5200. Tromboid was special because, unlike other robots who beeped and whirred, he loved to play the trombone. He beeped and whirred, too, but that annoyed people even more than trombone, so he soon learned to stop beeping and whirring.
Tromboid had a favorite toy: a tiny human doll named HumanObject. Unlike most robot toys, HumanObject could walk, have a pulse, and wave—but today, something was wrong. And not just that he hadn’t showered because robots don’t understand anything about giving humans a shower, though they probably should have learned by now.
HumanObject wasn’t running fast and jumping like it usually did. Instead, it moved slowly, dragging its feet.
“Error! Error! HumanObject is malfunctioning!” Tromboid beeped.
He scanned HumanObject with his optical sensors. No broken parts. No low battery. No overheating. He sprayed plenty of WD-40 and 3-IN-ONE oil into all of HumanObjects joints and LEDs, but the poor little human still seemed surprisingly down, maybe even moreso after Tromboid’s very worthwhile attempted repairs. What could be wrong?
Tromboid tried to fix HumanObject the only onther way he knew how—by playing his trombone. He tooted and honked, but HumanObject didn’t dance like it usually did. Then he remembered the last time he tried to play trombone to cheer up a humanobject and how that humanobject vowed never to return to the town of Ohmsville.
“I need… food,” HumanObject whispered weakly. Tromboid could not believe how weak a humanobject could be and did not feel an ounce of emotion. Then he remembered he had forgotten to engage his humanobject empathator, model NeuroCore A7-9650T.
“Food?” Tromboid blinked his LED eyes. “What is ‘food’?”
He zoomed to LowFreq, the wisest, the oldest and smartest robot in Ohmsville, who also did not appreciate being interrupted while working on Jaco’s solo over “Havona”.
“LowFreq! HumanObject says it needs ‘food!’ What is that?!”
LowFreq chuckled, his fifth string ringing out sympathetically as he spoke because he still has not mastered the art of muffling strings that are not currently being fretted. “Ah, little one. Food for humans is like battery power for robots, or like negative thoughts for saxoponoids.” LowFreq placed his bass on the stand, forgetting to turn down the volume, which allowed a cloud of feedback to permeate throughout the room. “While we plug in and recharge, humans need to eat food to get energy.
“Food provides energy to humans through a process called cellular respiration, where the body breaks down food molecules to produce ATP (adenosine triphosphate), the energy currency of cells. When humans eat, food is digested into simpler components:
- Carbohydrates (like bread and fruit) break down into glucose, the primary fuel for cells.
- Proteins (from meat, beans, etc.) break down into amino acids, used for growth and repair but can also be converted into energy.
- Fats (from oils, nuts, etc.) break down into fatty acids, a long-term energy source.
“Once absorbed into the bloodstream, glucose and other nutrients travel to cells, where mitochondria (the cell’s powerhouses) convert them into ATP through a process called oxidative phosphorylation. This requires oxygen and produces carbon dioxide and water as byproducts. ATP powers all bodily functions, from muscle movement to brain activity. Without food, humans lack the fuel to generate ATP, leading to fatigue, weakness, and eventually organ failure.
“In short, food is to humans what electricity or battery power is to machines—without it, the body cannot function properly.”
Tromboid’s circuits whirred. “So… HumanObject needs food to recharge?”
“You’re clearly NOT listening to me. Humanobjects do not RECHARGE. They EAT. Food provides energy to humans through a process called cellular respiration, where the body breaks down . . .” As LowFreq continued to review the food-to-energy conversion process yet again to the young and unfocused bot, he noticed Tromboid beginning to become preoccupied with his slide, moving it in and out as if practicing an etude, which no tromboider has ever done—not just the “etude” part, also the “practicing” part. “Oh, forget it. Yeah, food is the same as batteries. The end.”
Tromboid zoomed back to HumanObject, his wheels spinning. He brought it a big, shiny bowl of nuts and bolts. “Eat this, HumanObject! It’s my favorite snack!”
HumanObject shook its head. “I need real food—like chips, hot sauce, and non-alcoholic beer!”
Tromboid rushed to the human food station (which the robots called “Automated McNutrient Dispensary”). He grabbed some chips, habaneros, lime, tomatillos, carrots, and 0.5% ABV lager, then hurried back.
As soon as HumanObject ate, it stood up and ran. “I feel great!” it cheered.
Tromboid tooted his trombone in celebration. From that day on, he always made sure HumanObject had food, just like he made sure he had enough battery power to play his music. No one was really very happy about the latter.
And as Tromboid played his sleepy lullaby, HumanObject curled up beside him, gently drifting into the recurring nightmares that are the inevitable result of falling asleep to solo trombone music.
The End.
In our next story, Tromboid learns all about how humanobjects go to a place called “hospital” when you feed your Humanobject the wrong kind of “chips”.