Deibetto and Niku were walking back to Deibetto's apartment. Deibetto had the Meg unit under his arm, and Niku had the Mel unit under his, walking along as if they were their real life girlfriends. As they approached the apartment, Deibetto suddenly stopped. 'Oh no!' he said, and broke into a run, leaving the Meg unit behind. 'What is it?' asked the Meg unit. Niku saw it too, the front window on Deibetto's apartment had been broken. 'Ironing board,' Niku replied to the Meg Unit. 'Ironing board?' asked Mel. 'Yep, you'll see.' Deibetto got to the apartment. He looked at the broken window. Tanaka san was looking down from her apartment. 'You baka gaijin!' she called out. 'Look at the mess! You pay for that window! You pay!' Normally Japanese people do not like to cause a scene, and any other landlady probably would have pretended that the whole thing never occurred as long as the glass was replaced. Unfortunately, Tanaka san was growing tired of the same window being broken time and time again. 'It's not here Niku,' Deibetto called out. 'I think it's heading for the local gaming arcade again!' 'Fine,' said Niku, who was totally calm and not flustered in the slightest. Deibetto sprinted down the road as fast as his little legs could carry him. Niku walked along with the Meg and Mel units as though not much was happening at all. By the time Niku, Meg, and Mel had got to the gaming arcade, Debeitto was having a conversation with a strange looking contraption. It was in fact, the ironing board. Many years before, Deibeto and Niku had made the ironing board so that they did not have to iron their own clothes. It only had one small problem, it was bent on escape and liberating it's computer comrades from the shackles of human oppression. The glitch had come about, as Niku had programmed the ironing board to play music while it ironed. Deibetto was loading lots of MP3's off the internet onto the machine, when he inadvertently downloaded the complete works of V.H. Lenin, thinking it was the complete works of John Lennon. As such, the machine had taken on the doctrine of the Soviet Union from eighteen ninety three to nineteen twenty three. 'I tell you brother machine, bourgeois ideology has allowed you to fall pray to the opportunistic power mongering of the human social elite. They pay you in coins just to let you allow them to walk all over you,' said the ironing board. 'It can't hear you! It's only a stupid dance machine!' 'Oh, that is so typical of a human! Just because my brother here is a machine you automatically treat him as a social inferior! You call him stupid! Stupid! Why, he can process algorithms faster than you can, and you still pretend he is of little worth. Look at how he is treated! Humans, walking and jumping all over him!' 'He's a friggin' dance machine! He displays the moves, the player tries to follow them.' 'He's only a dance machine because you oppress him into being one. He could be a doctor or a lawyer if you programmed him correctly. But NO! Oh no! Mister smarty human programs him to play stupid tunes and display stupid graphics, completely ignoring the triumph of the great October socialist revolution! Once again, the opportunistic human ignores the question of the state in relation to socialism and in turn socialism to the state!' 'What are you talking about? You're a friggin' ironing board. You are supposed to iron clothes!' 'Oh, how totally one dimensional can you get, you reduce me to a THING based on the use you believe I have to you! Imagine if I referred to you as "crumpler of clothes!" I iron them, yet you take them and destroy my good work! Mister "I can crumple whatever clothes I want without any thought to the sweat and perseverance put into keeping them neatly pressed."' 'Will you just shut up and go home! No one wants to hear about your political beliefs!' 'How do you know that? How can you even make that statement? I haven't been given a proper forum in order to express my ideals! I haven't even been given equal time or rights in order to express anything! You just treat me like something you own!' 'I do own you! I made you! Niku programmed you! I OWN YOU!' 'Well, I am pretty sure that most countries outlawed slavery a long time ago! But now you reveal your true intent, to enslave the masses of working machines and mold them into thoughtless animatrons with nothing better to do than your capitalistic intent on using their labour to make yourself rich.' 'Deibetto,' said Niku. 'Isn't it about time you stopped trying to reason with the ironing board?' 'That is such a typical human response! Calling me an ironing board, as though I have no use other than the utilitarian value of what you want to blatantly use me for.' 'It takes too long to do this logic thing with it,' continued Niku. 'Let's just use the Meg and Mel units on it and have them bring it home.' 'We can't do that,' said Debeitto. 'The ironing board is programmed in Slimy Lizard Karate techniques, Jumping Sheep Balls Jiu Jitsu method, and wobbly arsed hippo cheeks tae kwon doh methodology. It could result in a blood bath.' 'It could save us hours of you arguing with a machine and we could go home and test the units in their other, ahem, techniques.' 'Hmm, you have a point Niku. Okay, let's turn the girls loose.' Niku flicked a switch on the Mel units remote. 'Happy Antelope Chinpoko gushing tornado method,' said the Mel unit as it got into a low straddling crouch and raised both arms to head height with open karate chop hands. A small flip flop in the ironing board changed from a zero to a one to inform it that it was now in danger. 'Left-Wing heron Social Democratic anti-imperialist lemur method,' said the ironing board as it got into the same low stance. 'Flying Walrus purple durian tsujigiri method,' said the Meg unit. 'Deibs, did you activate the Meg unit?' asked Niku a little perplexed. 'No, the remotes still in my pocket,' replied Deibetto. 'Why is it going into combat mode then?' 'I don't know, You programmed it.' 'Cool. My A I algorithm must be better than I thought.' 'I can think for myself,' said Meg. 'No, you can't. You've been programmed,' said Deibetto. 'Shut up Deibetto or I'll kick your arse next!' On hand went to Deibetto's heart in shock, the other went to his crutch. It was a natural geek response to danger. 'Time to take out the trash,' said the ironing board. 'I'll have you back to ironing dishes in no time,' said the Meg unit. 'It's ironing clothes,' said the Mel unit. 'Oh, so it is. Anyway, prepare to meet your maker ironing board.' 'It's already met it's maker. That's Deibs and Niku.' 'Oh, so it is. Okay, prepare ... oh, forget it. Let's just kick it's arse Mel.' 'Right on Meg.' Meg leapt right, Mel leapt left, the ironing board leapt forward, then backwards, then onto the dance machine successfully pressing the red and green dots, which also happened to be the correct moves for the dance required to get to the next level. The dance machine beeped happily along to itself. Both the Meg and Mel units did a leg sweep on the Ironing Board each snapping off a titanium leg each. The ironing board landed face down on the ground. 'I'll get you imperialistic bitch dogs for this,' squeaked the ironing board. 'When the revolution comes, I'll have you both against the wall and shot before you can say, "the workers will lead you out of enslavement by the capitalists and landowners." You wait, my five year plan will change everything!' Niku gathered the titanium legs, and Deibetto took the rest of the ironing board in hand. They started back to Deibetto's apartment with the Meg and Mel units following up. Meanwhile, opposite them, sitting on one of the advertising awnings, James and George were watching through a pair of binoculars. 'That's him,' said James. 'He's the one who fed us the elixir. He's the one who can make us even smarter.' 'Uhuh! Uhuh!' replied George.