“What do robots order as a side with their burgers?”

I shout that question at the top of my voice.

Your jaw drops.

Am I NUTS?

But the robot in front of me … doesn’t fire its laser.

If anything, it cocks its head slightly, in confusion.

I stifle a smile, and scream:

“MICROCHIPS! HAHAHAHAHA!”

Your eyes go wide.

THIS is my master plan?

To crack stupid jokes to the AI robots?

You conclude that we are most certainly about to die.

But … the robots still don’t move.

If anything … you swear you catch a few of them swaying a bit.

Calmly, I call out again:

“Hey, robot! What do you wear when it gets cold?”

Now you’re not imagining things. The robots are definitely looking less stable.

I cup my hands to my mouth and deliver the next punchline:

“You wear … RO-BOOTS! BAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!”

For a second, nothing happens.

Then … you hear a creaking noise.

And one by one, the giant robots groan … and sway … and crash to the ground.

BOOM! BOOM!

I hop back into the cockpit and lower us to the ground.

“What … how did you do that?” you ask, stunned.

“That’s how you defeat AI,” I reply.

“With … bad jokes?”

“With personality,” I correct you. “No, you shouldn’t just use bad jokes like mine. That only makes you a hamster. But because it’s a part of my personality that I can exaggerate, and develop a real character you know, like, trust and revere … it’ll never be replaceable by some AI. Didn’t you read Rule #22 from my Email Copywriting Compendium?”

You shake your head.

“Well, that’s your fault then,” I say. “But enough chit-chat. It looks like we’ve got some … clean-up to do.”

I survey the burned-out scene … the damaged walls of my lab … and the giant robot corpses.

Then I sigh … and hand you a broom.

“Is this some … product metaphor?” you ask, confused. “Am I supposed to click it to buy something?”

I look at you with raised eyebrows.

“No, idiot … it’s a broom. So you can start cleaning up. Get to it!”

And off I walk, leaving you to clean up the remains of a giant robot war.

Hmm.

You’re about to start sweeping when you hear a voice:

“Pssst! Come hide in here! He won’t know!”

You look up…

…to see the door of the Inbox Detonator Bunker ajar…

…and Tom, Hayley and Steven beckoning you in!

Well…

You could stay here and clean up…

Or you could go check out the Bunker:

Then return to your inbox for your next email…