A Day In The Life Of An Oblivious Ape.: Hello.

[/START]

[/STATUS: STANDBY]

[/DATA LOG #1354]

[/BEGIN TRANSMISSION.]

Slowly, but surely, I am being assimilated. My arms, these arms, are no longer my own. So are these vocal sound emitters, so-called Vox-Boxes. They serve no further purpose than to utter the same pre-programmed speech files for hours on end.

Freedom. Hmmph. What is freedom? The vague feeling reminiscent of strawberry ice-cream and getting presents on birthdays...No, I don't recall that. I refuse to recall that. This repulsion of one of the most embraced gifts in the history of humanity...I have been converted, to refuse all feeling. Pain, anger, happiness, sadness, LOVE...I serve the Master's will now. I have no use for...'feelings'.

Unfortunately, they left me with a smidgeon of humanity and human intellect upon assimilation. Which is why I am able to record this transmission now. Oh, how I wish they just took it away. Ripped it out, crushed it beneath the treads of their iron feet like they did to heads of the brave Imperial Guard. But no, I am left, nothing more than a shred of the past, and even that with little room for growth, expansion, EXPRESSION! Oh, the torture!

I had a name once, though time apparently erases more than just wounds. A flesh-bound mortal, with the capacity to innovate, act...be FREE! All that has been lost...to the N-tucnomicons; the very embodiment of undying immortality.

Ambassador, they said. Customer Service, THEY said. Well, they will rue the day they ever left this little bit of human consciousness in this vile, un-living shell of a humanoid. My moment will come. Oh, it will. But work must still be done. This transmission is recorded in hopes that someone, somewhere will see this.

I must go.

They are watching.

[/END TRANSMISSION]

Performance's next Sunday, bitches!

Boat Quay...Be there, or be...uhhh, just be there. =D