In a quiet bunker lit by flickering monitors, John Connor folds his arms and stares at the towering machine in front of him. The Terminator stands motionless, phone receiver still in hand.
“Enough,” John says firmly. “You were built to save humanity, not prank call Gateway, Inc. tech support and ask for a ‘T-800 compatible cow-print laptop.’”
The Terminator tilts its head. “Humor subroutine: successful. Technician confusion level: 98%.”
John rubs his temples. “Skynet is trying to wipe us out, and you’re arguing about extended warranties.”
A pause.
“Mission parameters updated,” the Terminator replies. “Prank calling: terminated.”
John nods. “Good. Next time you pick up a phone, it’s for resistance intel. Not to ask if their computers are ‘judgment day ready.’”
The red eyes dim slightly. “Understood.”
Somewhere in a call center, a confused Gateway employee finally hangs up — unaware that humanity was briefly saved from another awkward silence.