Digital Bank Heist

Senior POV

Once Kylie was satisfied with the code I sent it over to a small bank called Bank of Dank.

The reason was that it was one of the very few banks still legally ensured, and that I already have an exception in the firewall, since I was once a part time in that company when I was a young little lad.

Hey! I still am! So don't get any nasty ideas!

I quickly send in my information to get into the bank, and with a little touch of malice from Kylie, it will infect other banks, hedge funds, or just about anything the goes into the folder labelled, 'The people who own this are part of the .1% of people with 75% of the worlds money."

After I see the code successfully sent, I turn to Kylie, "What do you want for dinner?"

"Uhhmm..." She mumbles, her face going as blank as a Program Not Responding page.

"You're not really familiar with food, are you?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. She nods fixing her gaze onto the ground, her eyes doing a thorough inspection of... ANOTHER BREASTPLATE?!?!

Whatever, dinner comes first, then I'll find the culprit of the breastplate mystery.

"Okay, lets think, what did you eat at wherever you once was?" I ask, "And if it's fucking oatmeal... I might just have to make Anthrax." I say in the deadliest voice I could think of, kinda like Darth Vadar.

"Uhm... they fed me 2 nanometer metaconductor enriched smoothies..." She mutters, and I hiss like a couch potato after touching grass for the first time in years.

"I hope you don't need those to live, cause I couldn't hope to pay for one fucking smoothie if I worked my life out of me for a WHOLE YEAR!" I joke, I probably could afford one smoothie after one year, barely.

She doesn't pick it up and looks ashamed, "It only rapidly rejuvenates me, and improves my thinking speed," She says.

I snort, "Who told you this? The scientists? Or your equiviliant of Task Manager?"

"The scientists..." She mumbles.

"Then we're having starch rich Pad Thai, roomie. And also, a tip. Scientists and Pediatricians these days will always give you a nudge towards being healthy, like if your fat, they tell you to exercise more, and then hand you 4 steroids to fight your unhealthy habits and 3 more for the inflammation those pills will cause. Instead you shouldn't take the pills, and exercise," I explain.

She cocks her head as if saying, 'And how does this relate to my case?'

I groan and sit down on top of a olive shaped Smart Soccer Ball Pro. Honestly it looked more like a futuristic rugby ball. Anyways, back to the topic at hand.

I sigh and try to simplify, "All I'm saying is, don't listen to everything somebody says, unless they are me, of course. They have their own motives, beliefs, loyalties, and most importantly, their education. So, you gotta teach yourself about your issues so you don't end up doing another mistake halfway through," I lecture, and now it starts dawning to her.

"Now do you want me to order, or do you want to?" I ask.

She says she would like to try out ordering, I'm happy she picked up that small test on being more independent, "Don't forget about my Pad Thai! And make it so spicy it makes my nose cry!" I holler.

I can hear Kylie grin at this and quickly changes her English to Thai, and I feel a cold shiver go down my back.

It's an open secret that the Thai use horse radish and other Eastern replacement, since Americans are such weenies to heat and they'd lose customers if they packed the heat.

For that reason, when the Thai person calls... well... they have a catharsis and dump ALL THE FUCKING SPICES into their food... I sense there will be more than my nose crying tonight. But hey! How does she know that!? Robots...

...

When the food delivery robot or man drops off the food to the front of the building, it's promptly scanned and quickly sent via a tube to the orderers house, when it arrives with a ding to our section of the tube, I pull it out. If you keep it in there for too long, they charge you, probably to make sure you don't block up the pipes.

When I open the box, I scent of heat explodes to me, nearly causing me to cry, the only thing stopping me is my manly pride knowing that a person was in the room, and if I cried now, well.. no way I would be accepted into society ever again...

"E-er... Are you su-sure that you got what I asked? This looks like... cayanne meets richter scale," My mind is no longer functioning, and deep down, I knew she was planning this.

"Come on, eat it, I had to pay after all, it wouldn't be kind to not eat it..." She says in a tone that almost dares me to not eat it, but I know thats not a good idea.

I slowly break the chopsticks and put a handful of noodles into my mouth and it didn't start too bad, but it quickly transformed into something that made me start to cry, but I held it back, unfortunately, it did start making my nose cry.

I look over to hers and it looked even more spicy than mine, but she was slurping it up happily, "You probably put on your taste resistors or something," I grumble, shoving another chopstick-full of Pad Thai into my mouth, and my eyes began to grow blurry, and my ears were ringing, but I took another bite.

When I was about halfway through the dish, I stopped, I couldn't see anything, so anything I said from now on was an estimate, but suddenly I saw a red light blare from my room, and the ringing in my ears got worse.

"Be a sweety and go check on my computer," I mumble, "And make sure to bring plenty of milk or bread on your way back," I finish, my head thumping against the table and I passed out hard.