RoboCleaners My Future

Have you met the new cleaning-duo at VG yet? It consists of our prominent and lovely Catalan members, the best Arnau and Alberto. They have taken the task to a whole new level when it comes to cleaning

It feels really good, says Alberto, finally we both can show the nation how to make a proper work.

Their improvements consist of adapting new technology to the art of cleaning a house, not just programming an AI-chip that sees dirt and filth, but also, through surgery, operate the chip to their brain permanently Along with these assets, they have even replaced one of their human eyes with a robot eye, detecting and monitoring all the dusty areas.

Hasta la vista, baby, says Arnau while a strange engine sound is heard What’s that sound? I ask the duo.

Oh, that’s our new robotic-cleaning hands, says Alberto. We’ve replaced our hands with a vacuum and a sweeper

The duo doesn’t want to give me an explicit answer when I ask them how they will obtain their life when their offices end.

We are the future of cleaning, Arnau says Thou shalt obey our presence

Albin Bergström

Regardless if they come in the form of interview questions for work or in primary school; the question of “where do you see yourself in 15 years” is for most people a source of existential crisis. I, however, am not most people. Even as a confused 21-year old student my future is very clear to me. My plans are as follows:

1.

2.

3

Marry a rich duchess

Win the lottery

Get a job (mom forced me to include this one)

These plans are ordered by the chance of success. The chance of me winning the lottery is about 1 in 14 million and me getting a real job is even less However, I have a foolproof plan which makes my eventual marriage practically guaranteed.

At first I run into a mysterious woman at a cafe, she drops her sandwich on my bad knee and I fall down in pain. Seeing my agony on the floor makes her instantly fall in love with me We move in together in my tent on the corner of the street where I write my novels. We live on scraps for 3 months before she admits that she is the heiress to a great fortune and we move into her mansion together. She also admits that she is pregnant and dying. I become the sole owner of a lonely mansion and a mysterious child. I write books about my pain and become even richer while my child resents me for being too caught up in my work I die content at the age of 112.

Axel Persson