“Byron is kewl.” chanted the minions as Lord Byron slouched at his desk laughing maniacally.
The factory was clanking loudly, pumping out children like a chinese/ mexican sweatshop. They were all the same buzzing and beeping to Byrons heart beat. Unlike any teacher known to the school that built his own students, preloaded with the intelligence needed for his class, everything we needed was drilled into our brains, a memory card held our lives in balance, and with the press of a button we could cease to exist. Papers,exams, homework, revise, edit, vocabulary, you name it. As long as it had to do with grammar/ vocabulary he assigned it. The drones were each assigned a separate artificial intelligence, with a stamp on their foot, Assembled by Abstergo Industries, a proud partner of Aperture Science. The glow of their red eyes vanished as the daylight entered their non-existent souls.They drag, and scrape their feet, as they find their way home. They plug into a computer and all the knowledge they learned that day gets stored somewhere in the ever-expanding universe that is the internet, and if by chance they meet this knowledge again at some point in their life, they will be far beyond commission, rusted, depressed, not really many changes, except now they get money for trying to survive.