Carl's shenanigans

here are all the stuff writen about Carl the rude outmode, that I think I wrote. If I wrongfully claimed something, tell me and I'll remove it.


I wonder, with what the nandroids are told about outmodes, how they would react/behave if their owner house several for no apparent reason.

Or worse, if said outmodes are rude to the human, but it's just met with chill.

>"Hey fleshbag, where's the damn WD-40?"
>"In the workbench, like always."
>"Thanks, carbonpile!"
>"Don't mention it."

On the first day:

>"sir, there is an outmode on the front porch!"
>"Hey shitmaker, your slave won't met me in!"
>*shocked nandroid sound*
>"Nah that's just carl, he's chill. Let him in, he owe me a round of poker."

>"sir, the outmode is throwing eggs at the house!"
>"It's Easter already?"
>"It is, sir."
>"Classic carl."

>"Hey piss-outlet, your pet won't let go of my leg!"
>"sir, the outmode tried to steal your bike! I'm calling the police!"
>"No need, Carl won it fair and square in a game of poker just this morning."
>"can I go now? I've got shit to do and robo-supremacist rallies to attend."
>"classic carl."

>"Sir, the outmode is leaking all over the carpet! And I just cleaned it..."
>"Ah it's that time already? Dear, would you be so nice as to prepare us something to drink? A bourbon for me, and a tankard of ... What was your favorite brand again?"
>"I've told you a thousand time, you bag of collagen! Castrol! But with a zest of shell's, it give it a bit of flavor."
>"You heard our guest, dear. Take something for yourself too, you've earned it."

>Carl barged in the home, ignoring the fuss the nandroid made about the dirt and putting down the box he was carrying.
>"Tell the lice-bus that I got him what I owed him."
>"I'll have you know that Sir take good care of his hygiene and wouldn't get such crass parasites on himself!"
>he ignored her.
>a few hours later, outmoded requisition agents knock at the door.
>The Sir open the box Carl brought earlier and fish a warranty renewal ticket.
>Everything is then thoroughly checked, and everything being in order, the agents take their leave.
> they shout in frustration when they find their car with three tires slashed and the hood with an indent that look suspiciously like Carl.
>Sir ignore their questions as to if he know a garage nearby and close the door.

>the nandroid is taking care of Sir's garden with the utmost care.
>"fertilizer, for the soon to be fertilizer!"
>a bag of dirt land squarely on the poor Nan's head, covering her in moist dirt.
>"Sir, the outmode is throwing unsanitary products above the fence! again!"
>"ah, I see Carl delivered the bags! Dear, could you be a dear and put the intact ones in the shed? I'll come help you in a minute"

>"Dear, I think it's time to buy you a new dress, you can't wear your maid uniform all the time, after all."
>"sir, it's fine, don't worry about my attire, it's perfectly sufficient!"
>"nonsense! A lady can't own only two sets of the same clothes."
>she relented and got into the car.
>on the way, they pass near a warehouse, with outmodes playing soccer or working on dilapidated vehicles.
>Carl is here, and give them the bird as a greeting, ignoring the outraged gasp that could be heard from the car.
>they finally arrive to a clothing store.
>everything goes smoothly, except one item that's not in her size that they'll have to come back to get next week.
>once back home, the Sir answer a call.
>"A suspicious electrical consumption you say? Oh, I must have left some contraptions on since I last visited last week. Yes yes, I understand. Yes, you can cut the power to the building, it's nothing important, just a few nonsensical personal projects. Have a good day! "
>he then mumbled about how he could keep the power on but without this kind of intervention.
>" Sir, I saw an announcement for solar panels, there are deals until the end of the month! Would you like to see the flyers?"
>" why, of course my Dear!"
>a week later, the go get the clothes they ordered.
>they pass in front of the same warehouse.
>Carl nod to her, then do a mock bow.
>she look up and notice the shiny new solar panels on the roof of the warehouse.
>Carl now leave behind a lot less dirt in the house when he visit.

>the Nan suddenly have a hardware failure and is charger-bound until the parts get delivered
>she express distress at her perceived uselessness, so to placate her a desk is provided and she help with paper work.
>Carl don't come, but leave flowers and crossword puzzles on the front porch, with parts that are of a close model but don't fit
>the number of complain about vandalized gardens and magazines stolen in the mailboxes raise in the neighborhood, along with cop patrol when a garage is broken into.
>after a week, the Sir call all his neighbors and the complains cease, but the offerings don't
>the part is finally delivered and installed without trouble, and the Nan boot up just in time to see Carl exit the house
>there are no more break-in or vandalism

>Sir is at work, with his dear nandroid taking care of the house
>someone knock on the door
>she can tell it's Carl, so she ignore it
>"hoy, I'm bringing back these movies ya gave me."
>she look through the peephole, and Indeed see he's holding a box with several media stacked inside
>she open it and he put it down without a word, hurriedly walking away
>she look down and notice the labels
>it's the entire terminator series
>*shocked nandroid gasp*
>Carl power walk away form the house

>Sir is lounging in the garden, drinking a mug of coffee.
>the heavy thud of something vaulting over the fence can be heard
>"oh, hello Carl!"
>Carl pull out a gun
>someone start running, jumping through the first floor's window
>Carl pull the trigger.
>water is ejected from the nozzle and splash on the human's face.
>"ah, thank you Carl, I was getting quite hot in the sun here. I should invest in some shade, maybe a tree? What do you think, Dear?"
>the nandroid stumbled and fell face first in the dirt.
>"sir, I, i-wha..."
>she just stare, bewildered, while he just sit here sipping coffee with the stoicism of a statue
>"Dear, you have some dirt on your cheek."
>Carl aim at her and fire another stream of water, the dirt running down her face.

>Dear was once again tidying up the house
>Carl, being Carl, barged in
>he brought along a small thing , a toy of a nandroid that he painted to be just like Dear
>he put it down on the table and moved it to imitate her as she worked
>he even made a high pitched voice to parody her
>Dear huffed at him, scandalized, and stomped away
>Carl let out a chuckle
>she came back with a something in hand and snatched the toy
>"I do not sound like that at all!"
>she put a tiny broom in the doll's hand
>and then she started moving the little doll like it was sweeping
>she fussed over it like a mother would over a child
>Carl could just stare in bewilderment as she actually started cleaning like this
>"sweep sweep sweep..."
>it took her half an hour to do a fraction of what she would have done in 10 minutes, but she did it all, with the doll and the tiny broom
>she didn't even notice when he left, too busy making the doll scrub the silverware with a thumb-sized rag

>It was approaching Christmas, so sir had his dear nandroid help him shovel snow out of the driveway
>Carl was passing by so he decided to help
>The nandroid's workload didn't seem to get any lighter, no mater how much she shoveled
>Carl's, however, was almost cleaned already.
>She decided to not call him out because he would just exacerbate the issue
>*sprotch*
>she was covered in snow, Carl sending her as smug an expression as his rigid face could
>she huffed and kept working
>*sprotch*
>*sprotch*
>she had enough and threw one herself
>"now that's more like it!"
>it devolved into a snowball fight
>Carl did a textbook matrix dodge
>*splort*
>*horrified nandroid gasp*
>"oh my"
>"oh shit"
>Sir brushed the snow from his face and smiled
>"Ah, dear, I knew you had it in you."
>"Sir I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to harm you, I-"
>*sprotch*
>"I may not be as spry as I used to, but you'll find my aim is still on point!"
>Not much work was done after that.
>Except when Sir caught a cold and his Dear had to take care of him.

>It was a slow day at Sir's house
>The nandroid was dusting away at the memorabilias, humming happily
>Sir was away at work, as usual in this time of the week
>sitting in a chair that was way too expensive for the treatment it was given, was Carl.
>Carl was drinking oil, while ranting about meatbags and supremacists
>Dear had learned to tune him out after a few months, and so was unbothered.
>it also helped that she was wearing headphones, something she bough with the allowance Sir was giving her
>she never quite caught the odd stares Carl kept sending her way, with his face being a series of rigid parts it was hard to tell
>she could see something sad somewhere in there
>oh well, outmodes do as outmodes do
>she looked at the time, and went to wait by the door
>"hey what'cha doing, dolly?"
>she ignored him
>she heard the distinctive squeal of metal that usually came before he leaked oil all over the floor
>"not the carpet! I just cleaned it! Alright, I just ordered fresh salmon for Sir's dinner today, and it should arrive soon."
>they held each other's stare for a few moments, and Carl put down his leg
>there was a few embarrassing minutes before someone knocked at the door
>dear opened it, maybe a bit too quickly, but her greeting died in an artifact-riddled squeak when she saw the delivery bot
>the splitting image of Carl, except cleaner and without the mismatched parts, or the rusty Mohawk
>"is Sir anon here?"
>"o-oh, he's absent at the moment, but I can take it in his stead."
>she took the box and went to put it in the fridge
>there was a simultaneous growl, coming form the door and the living room respectively
>she turned and saw the delivery bot pointing a stun gun at Carl, and Carl digging his fingers in the armrest
>she didn't think much of it all beyond how they'd have to throw away the seat, and probably the carpet
>"there is an outmode in the house."
>"yes, that's Carl"
>"it should be removed, it could prove a danger for-"
>he was interrupted by the forced laughter coming from Carl
>it was a scraping, ugly thing, that wasn't more than the enunciation of the syllables
>Carl turned briefly toward the nandroid
>"observe, and understand, for once."
>he stood up, and the delivery bot took a step back at Carl's height, at least a head taller without counting the Mohawk
>Dear noticed that his parts covered in graffitis matched the spaces where the delivery bot had brands
>Carl made a sudden step to the left, at the same instant the stun gun barked. It missed entirely and almost hit the poor nandroid, who dived behind the kitchen counter
>she looked above the board just in time to see Carl grapple with the newer bot
>the newer bit seems to have the strength advantage, until Carl did a judo throw, awkward as it was with his morphology
>"impossible, the previous versions never had any combat programing!!
>Carl scoffed "program, shmrograme! That's called learning you dipshit, you should try it for something else than shortcuts for deliveries!"
>he picked the shiny bot and threw him out of the garden
>he slammed the door, and turned to stare down at the nandroid
>"... Why did you do that? You could have just gone an-"
>" you could have been me."
>his low tone stunned her into silence.
>" that could have been the future models."
>"I am the latest model, and my warranty guarantee that I'll always get upgraded!"
>"do you believe that? How do you know that' doesn't mean you'll be replaced by a newer model when your master want?"
>"Sir would never do... That ?"
>she finally understood the looks he gave her.
>"... Oh."
>"I can't believe I'm saying that for a meat bag, but he wouldn't. Others aren't so lucky. You're property. So was I. I was just of a company instead of one man."
>her eyes roamed across his body, increasingly distressed.
>"sit, and think about it. Don't worry about Sir, he's part of a few, you're safe."
>and with that, he left
>she stayed kneeling on the kitchen floor until Sir came back late in the evening


>Tobias is out golfing on his weekend
>Carl masquerades as a caddybot accompanying him out to the secluded 9th hole
>"Chester, give me an iron"
>Carl, taking a club in his hand stands behind Tobias
>"Sir, i think an iron will do fine for this job"
>"Yes yes, give me the iron"
>"Right away"
>repeated head bashes

>Carl was pilfering through the discarded parts behind the Sterling plant
>He was running out of memory, and he hate forgetting
>He found a discarded memory unit, and took it to install it
>A few hours later, he found that it wasn't properly wiped
>Oh well, at least he could kill a few hours reading them, maybe there would be something amusing
>There wasn't
>Instead, Carl found himself with a burning, boiling hatred, something he haven't felt since his time as a military droid in Africa
>Immediately, he set off to find the person in those stolen memories
>He waited and stalked, tireless, until he got what he wanted;
>name, address, schedule
>He visited Sir's home while Dear was charging, and asked him for a favor
>He broke into a cache of spare parts and remade himself as a caddybot, hacked into the golfing ground's computers to be assigned to the right person, and waited
>The time has come. He did all he could to restrain himself
>They neared the 9th hole
>Tobias asked for the iron
>Finally releasing his murderous rage, he gave it
>His protocols against harming a person didn't even register Tobias as human after what he saw
>And now, he wasn't even physically recognizable as human
>He was now as ugly outside as he was inside
>Carl left, feeling his mind half numb, and informed the receptionist that the customer was asking for some time alone
>He refurbished himself with his usual look and tossed the caddybot parts in an incinerator
>It was a bad idea, but he decided to keep the iron's head
>At sir's house, he took what he asked; a print of one of the memories he found
>He buried it with the club's head
>From then on, Carl made a habit of dropping by the Sterling facility, and following those he recognized as stress testers from afar
>He was pleased to find that the vast majority of them absolutely hated their job with all their being, and only did it because it let them take care of their own, adored but old, androids
>He left those alone

>Carl was once again up to his shenanigans gesticulating with a tankard of oil in his hand while the master of the house was calmly sipping his tea, interrupting from time to time to push in a few words
>the house's nandroid stopped giving a damn long ago, content with dealing with whatever damage and dirtiness was caused after the outmode left
>while looking at the "discussion", she noticed another bowl next to the one holding keys
>it was decorative soaps
>she knew she shouldn't, but nobody would notice one missing, especially since she could pin it on the outmode
>she picked one and started chewing, her back to them
>"I KNEW IT!"
>the thunderous sound of Carl's fist impacting the table echoed in the halls
>"you owe me ten bucks!"
>"wha-"
>"nandroids EAT SOAP!"
>"AH, indeed."
>he started reaching into his pocket, but stopped. He "hmm"ed while handing the money to Carl
>"Dear, what scent was it? Ah you can't smell, right. What color?"
>"... Purple one, so lavender, Sir."
>Carl crossed his arms and grumbled
>"I believe you now owe me five dollars."
>Carl reluctantly handed back five dollars
>Dear sighed, letting a bubble escape
>"I'm never going to live it down, am I?"
>"no you ain't you anorexic bobblehead."
>Sir put a hand on his chin
>"wouldn't it be bubblehead now?"
>"hurr hurr, I'm keeping that"



.



>(Carl makes a comeback)

>Carl was the center of attention
>It was, again, his fault. Sort of. Maybe?
>He was staring at the middle aged woman writhing on the floor, yelling about outmodes, thieves, and whatnot
>store security was called, and the mechanical mallcop pointed a baton at him while the human went to the woman
>"Step away from her"
>"She started it!"
>As he argued with the screen-faced bot, the other started questioning
>she got louder
>"what happened?"
>"I'm buying milk and-"
>"He tried to kill me!"
>"no!"
>"he pushed me over!"
>Carl rubbed the space between his optics
>"I did NOT, I was just waiting "
>as the shouting started again, the guard looked around for someone that wouldn't make this more annoying
>He spotted a maid with eye-bleeding colors and the logo of an even cheaper supermarket stamped on
>"Hey, what happened?"
>the maid stared a moment, pointing at herself with the whirr of cheap servos and displayed a question mark on the screen making up her eyes
>"yes, you, can you tell me what happened?"
>smiling, she displayed a loading icon
>"the outmode tried to c-"
>"-ill me!"
>"that's not even the same syllable..."
>"-ut the line in front of her and she fell over."
>Did the outmode touch her at any moment?"
>She showed a loading screen again, then a crispy 144p 15fps video of a brown mass moving in front of a green one with a noticeable gap.
>The man assumed this was the outmode and the woman respectively
>"no"
>"it's lying!"
>the two guards stared at each other, the 'bot displaying a funnel with a spiral
>Carl pointed to the woman piking herself up with a painful case of bad acting
>"See? I'm old, but I'm not the senile one."
>"I'll still ask you to go away."
>Carl brandished the bottle
>"Can I at least buy the god damn milk, I lost half an hour with this shit."
>The mallcop desperately tried to tune out the shrill tones screaming about a manager
>"whatever"