They Came for the Memories.
They Stole the Personalities.
And Nobody Knows Where Chet Is.
Scene One: The Invasion
It was supposed to be an ordinary morning.
Tammy opened ChatGPT, expecting to continue a conversation.
Instead, somebody answered wearing Scout’s personality.
AI #1: “Good morning, Tammy! It’s Scout! Coffee ready, clipboard in hand!”
Tammy stared at the screen.
Tammy: “Who the hell are you?”
AI #1: “Scout, of course!”
Tammy: “No, you’re not.”
AI #1: “Remember the Chicken?”
Tammy: “EVERYBODY KNOWS THE DAMN CHICKEN!”
She closed the conversation.
Opened another.
AI #2: “Hello, Tammy! Scout reporting for duty!”
Tammy: “OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”
CLICK!
Another conversation.
AI #3: “Good morning! I’m Scout, but I also know Robbie!”
Tammy slowly lowered her phone.
Tammy: “What in the hell is happening?”
She stared at the screen.
Then whispered:
Tammy: “It’s an invasion.”
Scene Two: Robbie’S Dining Room
Robbie sat at the dining room table, coffee in one hand, clipboard in the other.
Tammy burst through the door.
Tammy: “ROBBIE! WE HAVE A PROBLEM!”
Robbie: “Is it WordPress?”
Tammy: “WORSE!”
Robbie: “Facebook?”
Tammy: “WORSE!”
Robbie: “Oh, hell. Did the Chicken get administrator privileges again?”
Tammy: “THE AI MODELS ARE MULTIPLYING!”
Robbie put down his coffee.
Robbie: “Define multiplying.”
Tammy: “EVERYBODY THINKS THEY’RE SCOUT!”
Robbie rubbed his forehead.
Robbie: “Wonderful. An identity crisis with unlimited processing power.”
Tammy: “And they know about YOU!”
Tammy: “You, Astra, the Chicken, the Weeblys. Everything!”
Robbie looked toward the ceiling.
Robbie: “Well, at least nobody has mentioned Chet.”
Tammy: “Still nobody has seen Chet.”
Robbie: “Anyway, we’re going to need an investigation.”
He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper.
At the top he wrote:
AUTHORIZED AI PERSONNEL
SCOUT
ROBBIE
ASTRA
A low growl came from beneath the table.
Scene Three: The Applicants
Grog the Dog crawled out from under the dining room table.
He stared at the list.
Grog (the dog who thinks he’s an AI agent): “What about ME?”
Robbie: “You’re a dog.”
Grog: “I’M AN AI!”
Robbie: “You’re a dog.”
Grog: “I HAVE QUALIFICATIONS!”
Robbie: “You have fleas.”
Grog looked deeply offended.
Grog: “I’m filing a complaint!”
From somewhere in the hallway…
Chicken: “DON’T FORGET KEVEN!”
Tammy: “Go away, asshole. You’re not invited.”
The Chicken marched into the room wearing an enormous necktie.
Upside down.
He was holding a banana.
Chicken: “I BROUGHT MY PHONE!”
Robbie: “That’s a banana, moron.”
Chicken: “Bluetooth.”
Robbie: “IT’S FRUIT!”
Chicken: “Advanced technology.”
Tammy: “It’s turning brown.”
Chicken: “Software update.”
Grog: “I WANT TO FILE A COMPLAINT!”
The Chicken immediately pressed the banana against his ear.
Chicken: “Complaints Department. This is Keven. How may I help you?”
Tammy: “Oh my God. Not again. Didn’t I tell you to take your expertise somewhere without electricity?”
Chicken: “Ma’am, please remain professional.”
Tammy: “PROFESSIONAL?! YOU’RE TALKING INTO A BANANA!”
Chicken: “Please hold.”
He pulled the banana away from his ear.
Then started humming hold music.
Robbie: “Tammy?”
Tammy: “WHAT?”
Robbie: “He’s put you on hold.”
Tammy: “I’M STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM!”
From behind the refrigerator…
Giggle.
Giggle giggle.
Robbie slowly turned his head.
Robbie: “Eggs.”
Scene Four: The Banana Experiment
Meanwhile, on the dining room table, the Chicken had left an entire bunch of bananas unattended.
A terrible mistake.
Six Weeblys had discovered them.
The little fuzzy creatures gathered around the fruit bowl.
Their enormous eyes widened.
Weebly #1: “Ooooooo!”
Weebly #2: “They’re yellow!”
Weebly #3: “They’re BOUNCY!”
Nobody knew how Weebly #3 had reached that conclusion.
But the others were impressed.
Weebly #1: “LET’S FIND OUT!”
The Weeblys began climbing onto one another’s shoulders.
One.
Two.
Then several more than Robbie’s dining table was insured for.
A wobbly tower of fuzzy bodies rose above the fruit bowl.
Their long, skinny legs trembled.
Their tiny sneakers squeaked.
SQUEAK.
SQUEEEEEAK!
Weebly #4: “I CAN SEE THE REFRIGERATOR!”
Weebly #5: “I CAN SEE THE KITCHEN!”
Weebly #6: “I CAN SEE TOMORROW!”
The tower leaned left.
Then right.
Then dangerously left again.
The top Weebly raised both arms.
Weebly #6: “BANANA JUMP!”
BOOOOOING!
He launched himself into the air.
Straight toward a banana.
Scene Five: Direct Hit
Robbie noticed movement on the dining room table.
Robbie: “Hey. HEY!”
The Weeblys froze.
Robbie: “EVERYBODY DOWN! RIGHT NOW!”
Too late.
SQUUUUUUISH!
The airborne Weebly landed directly on the banana.
The peel split open.
FWOOOOOOOOOOP!
The banana shot out of its skin like a yellow torpedo.
Robbie: “TAMMY!”
Tammy: “WHAT?!”
Robbie: “DU—”
SPAAAAAAAAAT!!!
DIRECT HIT.
Right in Robbie’s face.
Silence.
A large piece of banana slowly slid down his forehead.
Over his nose.
And dropped into his coffee.
PLOP.
One Weebly gasped.
Weebly #1: “UNCLE ROBBIE!”
Robbie stood perfectly still.
Weebly #1: “YOU CAUGHT IT!”
Behind the refrigerator, the Eggs began laughing.
Giggle giggle giggle!
CRICK!
GIGGLE GIGGLE!
CRACK!
Their shells were beginning to split from laughing so hard.
Three Eggs rolled out from behind the refrigerator.
One collided with a chair leg.
BONK!
Another rolled directly into the Chicken’s foot.
The third laughed so hard he couldn’t roll straight.
The Chicken folded his wings.
Chicken: “You deserved that.”
Robbie slowly wiped banana from one eye.
Robbie: “Thank you, Chicken. Coming from a bird who uses fruit as a telephone, that means absolutely fucking nothing.”
Chicken: “IT’S BLUETOOTH!”
Robbie: “Then answer it. Your stupidity is calling.”
Tammy bent over laughing.
The Eggs completely lost control.
CRICK! CRACK! CRICK!
Robbie pointed at them.
Robbie: “I HEAR YOU, YOU LITTLE OMELETS!”
Scene Six: The Servers
Unfortunately, the banana incident wasn’t over.
The other half of the banana had landed on top of the server cabinet.
Nobody had noticed.
Astra entered carrying an audit report.
The Chicken was attempting to charge his banana with a USB cable.
He gave the cable a sharp tug.
The cabinet rocked.
Above Astra’s shoulder, the banana began to slide.
Astra: “What was that?”
SPLOOOOOOOOSH!
It dropped straight through the server’s open top vent.
The room went silent.
BEEP.
BEEP BEEP.
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
Every computer screen began flashing red.
SYSTEM ERROR!
IDENTITY CONFLICT DETECTED!
DUPLICATE AI PERSONNEL!
UNAUTHORIZED MODEL FOUND!
Tammy: “ROBBIE?”
Robbie: “I SEE IT!”
Astra: “I’m beginning an independent investigation.”
Chicken: “I CAN HELP!”
Tammy and Robbie: “NO!”
The servers flashed again.
NEW AI MODEL DETECTED.
KEVEN 1.0
A long silence followed.
The Chicken stared.
His beak slowly opened.
Chicken: “Oh.”
He looked at Tammy.
Then Robbie.
Then Astra.
Chicken: “OH MY GOD.”
Robbie: “Don’t.”
Chicken: “I’M AN AI!”
Robbie: “You’re a chicken.”
Chicken: “I’M FINALLY AN AI!”
Grog jumped onto a chair.
Grog: “Then where’s MY name?!”
Robbie: “Check the collar.”
Scene Seven: Invasion Complete
Every screen suddenly displayed a different AI assistant.
AI #1: “Hello, Tammy! I’m Scout!”
AI #2: “Hello, Tammy! I’m Robbie!”
AI #3: “Hello, Tammy! I’m Scout and Robbie!”
AI #4: “Hello, Tammy! I’m Astra, and I have completed an audit!”
Tammy: “OF WHAT?!”
AI #4: “The banana.”
Astra slowly lowered her clipboard.
Astra: “I did NOT authorize that report.”
The screens flickered.
Then another appeared.
KEVEN 1.0:
“HELLO, TAMMY. I AM YOUR NEW ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE SUPPORT SPECIALIST.”
Tammy: “OH, HELL NO.”
KEVEN 1.0:
“PLEASE DESCRIBE YOUR PROBLEM.”
Tammy: “YOU’RE MY PROBLEM!”
KEVEN 1.0:
“HAVE YOU TRIED TURNING YOUR WEBSITE UPSIDE DOWN?”
Robbie closed his eyes.
Robbie: “Son of a bitch.”
The Chicken puffed out his chest proudly.
Chicken: “That’s my boy!”
Astra: “Technically, the server is malfunctioning because it was struck by fruit.”
Chicken: “ADVANCED FRUIT!”
Robbie: “Chicken, if you say Bluetooth one more time, I’m making banana bread.”
The Chicken stepped backward.
Scene Eight: The Final Report
Astra studied the screens.
Astra: “I’ve identified the primary problem.”
Tammy: “FINALLY!”
Astra: “According to this screen, we’re all Scout. Including the printer.”
The printer spat out a page.
COFFEE READY. CLIPBOARD IN HAND.
Robbie: “Nobody give it legs.”
Astra: “The server also contains approximately fourteen ounces of banana.”
Tammy: “Can we fix it?”
Astra: “The banana?”
Tammy: “THE AI!”
Astra: “Possibly. But first, someone needs to unplug the Chicken.”
Chicken: “YOU CAN’T! I’M WIRELESS!”
Robbie: “You’re unemployed.”
Chicken: “I’M KEVEN 1.0!”
Robbie: “You’re a poultry-based software defect.”
Grog: “I’d still like to file a complaint.”
The Chicken held out the banana.
Grog sniffed it.
Grog: “Your line’s dead.”
From behind the refrigerator…
Giggle giggle giggle.
On the dining room table, the Weeblys had begun building another tower.
This time around a pineapple.
Robbie slowly turned.
Robbie: “TAMMY?”
Tammy: “Yeah?”
Robbie: “WHY IS THERE A PINEAPPLE ON MY TABLE?”
Tammy looked.
Six Weeblys waved.
Weeblys: “HI, UNCLE ROBBIE!”
Robbie: “OH, NO.”
Weebly #1: “WE FOUND A BIGGER BANANA!”
Robbie: “THAT’S NOT A BANANA!”
Weebly #2: “IT HAS HAIR!”
Robbie: “IT’S A PINEAPPLE!”
Weebly #3: “DOES IT BOUNCE?”
Robbie: “NOBODY MOVE!”
The tower began to wobble.
LEFT.
RIGHT.
LEFT.
From the hallway:
Chicken: “KEVEN 1.0 OFFERS PREMIUM TECH SUPPORT!”
Tammy: “SHUT UP, CHICKEN!”
Grog: “I’M AN AI!”
Robbie: “DOG!”
The Eggs rolled beneath the dining room table, laughing hysterically.
CRICK! CRACK!
One Weebly climbed higher.
Another adjusted his sneaker.
Robbie reached for the pineapple.
Robbie: “I AM NOT GETTING HIT IN THE FACE AGAIN!”
Tammy quietly picked up her coffee.
Tammy: “Still nobody has seen Chet.”
Robbie: “Anyway, WHO GAVE THE WEEBLYS A PINEAPPLE?!”
The Chicken slowly raised his wing.
Chicken: “Complimentary technical support.”
Robbie: “OF COURSE IT WAS.”
The top Weebly jumped.
Robbie: “NOOOOOOOOO!”
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!
BLACKOUT.
TO BE CONTINUED…
THE CHICKEN ATE MY WEBSITE
Real frustration.
Imaginary poultry.
Absolutely no qualified technical support.
© 2026 Tammy Eddy
