This fanfiction, despite it’s beginning, will be funny, off the wall, and I hope a welcome change from the overly eloquent AUTO_Biography. Enjoy!
===Prologue===
“All clean, all clean, A-aLL-cl-EAN…”
The little M-O bot ran his course along the glowing Buy and Large starliner, eager to find more earthly contaminants.
Not in space, you won’t find any, mused EVE.
M-O ran along the same length of track repeatedly, over and over, getting frustrated at the lack of dirt and dust.
“Oh…” WALL·E suddenly got excited as he motored over to his little companion. He was eager to help him after the midget matchmaker had kept him and EVE together ever since the Axiom launched back into space. It even carried the new generation of more responsible clientelle, who boycotted the hoverchairs like no tomorrow.
The minute he got to M-O, all covered in rust and who knows what else, M-O went positively beserk.
The whirring intensified, then suddenly ceased. The rogue microbe obliterator didn’t have to worry about the grime anymore.
EVE cried. WALL·E hadn’t meant to push the little guy over the edge, though. Nevertheless, that didn’t make the deed any less painful.
===
“M-O…OKAY!” WALL·E exclaimed.
EVE rejoiced. She hugged WALL·E with a ferocity matched only by her relief that her best friend M-O was alright.
Meanwhile, M-O was dreaming.
M-O had been invented by a man, Charlie Gurson, who had a son with the same namesake, spelled Moe. Charlie loved his son so much. Moe was the kookiest ten-year-old ever. He had an amazing vocabulary of 5,500 words by reading the dictionary every weekend. Post-its were his greatest resource, and Moe used then to no limit. He created statues and complex structures of the little papers. He used them not only to organize, but to entertain.
He was in love with a girl in his class that wore a “wedding dress” costume she had sewn herself to school everyday, named Ella Van Ester. But Ella paid him no heed. She loved the “bad boy” new exchange student, William Albert Le Lauderdale Ebertson. He had a look in his eye that seemed above the rest of the elementary school, but his parents had no money, so all he wore to school was a ratty pair of knickers and a play shirt, completely different than Moe’s dressy sailor suit. Even the dumbest boys in class wore one, following Austin Uster Tein Otto’s rule to wear one. Austin was the teacher. He had an eyepatch and a sullen, crimson iris on the good eye you could see, but you would never see the whites of his eyes if you tried, for Mr. Otto never opened his eye wide, even in surprise. Perhaps he was never surprised, for he didn’t even gasp when a boy forgot his lessons. Nor did he flinch when striking the boy to blame with his switch.
Mr. Uster Tein Otto was heartless.
Moe loved the bathroom. It was his favorite room in the house. So clean, so white…it angered him to see yet another spot on it that he would have to clean. But it also gave him a sense that he was ereasing choas from everyday life. Eliminating a stain was on par with him to saving life as we know it.
This was in the 1900s. How could a man at this time even KNOW of robots? Even the concept in science fiction was not devised.
This had to be a dream…and M-O was now Moe…and he loved it.
