I am, I do.

The buzzing of neon lights echoes off the rusted steel walls of a cramped corridor. In the center of the hallway, a slender silhouette shadow boxes as a ruckus crowd cheers from beyond the rattling doors at the end of the corridor. The doors spark with electricity as they eventually open. A man squeezes through the widening gap. His wide shoulders emerging first as his bulbous stomach struggles to follow.

“For fuck’s sake, Jack. I hate it when you do that shit. You synths-” the figure halts his shadowboxing as a piercing, lightning-blue glare quiets the portly man.

“...Sorry. Look, you know it weirds the people out is all I'm saying, ” said the man as he rests his hands on his hips. Stepping into the light, the slender figure peers up at the rotund man.

“Yes, I know. But, Frank... I have to do this. It's part of my routine, ” said Jack as he hangs his head.

“Alright, alright. Just... Just make sure no one's around when you do it, Kapeesh?” said Frank, his hands resting his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

“Look at you. I’d tell you to eat more, but... Yeah, that's never funny is it?” asked Frank, a small smile forms on his face.

“Never, ” answers Jack with a smirk.

“Alright, kid. You know the deal. Go in there, fool around with him a bit, give the guy some false hope, then pow! Take him out. Give ‘em a good show, ” said Frank.

“Ok, Frank, ” said Jack, balling his fists. Frank softly slaps Jack’s cheek.

“Let's go earn some credits, huh?” said Frank as the duo exit the corridor. The pair enter a cavernous arena. Filled to capacity with raging fans, a barrage of boos bombard Jack. He gances at the crowd; his demeanour now sombre.

“Come on, kid. Don't let this shit get to you, ” said Frank as he nudges Jack toward the circular ring. An announcement is made over the PA as Jack heads toward the ring.

“Making his way to the ring, accompanied by his manager, from New Vegas... Jack “The Machine” Johnson!”

Jack enters the ring and begins shadow boxing as a hail of ear-piercing boos hit the ring. Jack peers over at Frank as Frank shakes his head.

“And his opponent..., ” suddenly the arena fills with deafening cheers as the lights go out.

“From New York City, ” said the announcer as the crowd erupts.

“Mauler McCloud.” The lights turn on revealing a snarling mountain of muscle. Flexing and sliding his thumb across his throat, McCloud sprints toward the ring. Leaping from the arena floor to the ring, McCloud lands thunderously; his mohawk bombing back and forth.

Jack and McCloud approach the centre of the ring. They circle each other before engaging. McCloud tackles Jack. A barrage of punches rain down on Jack’s face as he peers over at Frank. Frank points to his watch as he shakes his head.

McCloud rises to his feet. He delivers a monstrous kick to Jack’s solar plexus as the crowd cheers with delight. Jack glances at Frank with a raised eyebrow. Frank nods and gives Jack a thumbs up.

As McCloud’s fist speeds toward Jack’s face, Jack catches the fist and slowly tightens his grip. Twisting McCloud’s arm counterclockwise, the popping of tendons ricochets in Mcloud’s ears as he yelps in pain. Jack rises to his feet, McCloud’s fist within his hand. Jack moves toward McCloud’s ear.

“Say it, ” whispered Jack.

“I-I... I give up!” yells the mountainous McCloud. As McCloud falls to the canvas, the crown’s cheering comes to an abrupt halt. Silence washes over the arena as Jack stands in the center of the ring. He flashes an uncomfortable smile.

“The winner via submission... Jack “The Machine” Johnson, ” said the announcer as the crowd’s boos rattle the arena. Jack peers out into the crowd, a sombre expression washes over his face as he hangs his head and exits the ring.

“You did good, kid, ” said Frank, escorting Jack out of the arena and into the back corridor.

“Go home, synth!” shouted a person within the crowd as the duo exit the arena.

Jack stands in a corner as Frank speaks to the fight promoter.

“20 thousand credits was what we agreed, Frank. Your boy lasted two minutes. Take it or leave it, ” said the promoter. Frank places his thumb on the transparent, rectangular device within the promoter’s hand with a furrowed brow.

“Why do you waste your time doing business with synths, Frank?” asked the promoter.

“Just mind your fuckin’ business, ” said Frank as he heads over to Jack.

“ Ten thousand credits. That's all you. Not a bad night, huh?” said Frank, “you ok, kid?”

“Yes... I couldn't help bit overhear your conversation with the promoter... Why do you continue to do business with -” Frank places his hand on Jack’s mouth.

“Dont go repeating nonsense, Jack, ” said Frank.

“You go to your hotel room, you rest up, maybe even get laid, all of that good stuff, and we head out for Newark in the morning, ” said Frank.

“Laid?” asked Jack.

“Yeah! Don't be like that. I know you guys are equipped, ” said Frank.

“...I won't ask how you know that, ” said Jack as he smirks at Frank.

“Sit and spin, my friend. Sit and spin, ” said Frank as he holds up his middle finger.

The Mishima-Hilton. The most luxurious hotel in New York City. Jack enters the mirrored interior lobby.

“Hello. Reservation for Jack, ” said Jack as he glances about the extravagant lobby.

“Hey. You fought tonight, huh? You're a synth, right? You think that's fair being a synth and all?” asks the person at the front desk. Jack clenches his fist.

“We... We don't like being referred to as ‘synths’. New humans, androids, or even by our names will suffice, ” said Jack, “... Hey, stop me if you’ve heard this one. A rabbi walks into a bar. He asks the bartender for a drink. After he gets his drink, the rabbi says ‘Mazel Tov’. The bartender retreats under the bar. The rabbi asks him what the problem is to which the bartender responds ‘ I don't want to die! Molotov's are pretty dangerous...” said Jack with a large smile on his face.

The front desk attendant simply stares apathetically at Jack as Jack reaches for his room key card. Jack walks toward the elevator with his head hanging low. As he enters the elevator, a young boy sprints toward the elevator. He thrusts his hand between the closing doors as he rushes inside the elevator.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Hey... You're Jack Johnson. You fought tonight, huh?” said the young boy.

“Yes. Thank you for the support, ” said Jack, his gaze fixed on the elevator buttons.

“You're a synth, right?” asks the young boy. Jack clenches his fists.

“I am an android. Listen, you're young so I understand you're not aware, but we would rather you not refer to use as ‘synths’, “ said Jack, “artificial person... or anything else, quite frankly will suffice.”

“Oh... sorry,” said the boy. Jack glances at the boy.

“Hey. Why did the chicken cross the road?” Asks Jack. The boy glares at Jack.

“Are you serious?” Asks the boy. Jack, shocked at the boys reaction, turns away. The boy gets off the elevator as does Jack. Jack enters his room.

As Jack enters his room, he presses his hand to a transparent plastic plate on the wall. A directory is displayed in hard light. A list of escort services is displayed. Jack strokes his chin and selects open-minded escorts. As Jack pays for the service, he sits down and does a self diagnostic.

As Jack shadowboxes in the corner, there is a knock at the door. Jack stops his self-sparing and heads to the door. As Jack opens the door, he sees a buxom brunette. Her black dress clings to her many curves as her full lips flash a ruby red smile.

“Jack, I assume, ” said the vivacious brunette. Jack shudders.

“Yes. My, you are quite beautiful, ” said Jack.

“Thank you. My names Dallas. I have to confess, you're a refreshing change from my normal clientele, ” said Dallas, ” they usually just rip my clothes off the minute I step foot in their room.” Dallas flashes a seductive half-smile as she enters Jack’s room.

“We’re not all built the same I suppose, ” said Jack. Dallas takes her high heels off and sits on Jack’s bed.

“...Would you like a drink?” asks Jack. Dallas glances at Jack.

“That would be lovely, ” said Dallas. As Jack opens a bottle of Dom Perignon, 2049, Dallas smiles slyly.

“Can I ask you something?” asks Dallas.

“Of course, ” said Jack.

“You’re a new human, yes?” asks Dallas.

Jack spins around to face Dallas.

“...Y-yes. Yes, I am. I'm sorry... Most people don't refer to me by... Yes, I am, ” said Jack as he continues to pour Dallas a drink.

“Honey, don't be surprised. I don't discriminate. I don't care if you're an android, a human or something in between, ” said Dallas, “life’s too short to worry about that nonsense... Well, for most of us. I find your kind fascinating if I'm honest.”

“Did you watch the fight?” asked Jack.

“I did, ” said Dallas as she sips her champagne.

“I... I'm a huge fan of the... I don't know, I'm a fan of raw, animal brawling I guess, ” said Dallas as she flashes a half-smile. Jack takes a fighter’s stance.

“The trick is to anticipate your opponent’s action through movement, ” said Jack, “ he moves his right foot forward, I jab. He moves back, I set up a cross. He-” Dallas places her hand on Jack’s arm.

“I don't care about strategy... What did you say your name was?” asks Dallas.

“Jack. Jack Johnson, ” said Jack.

“Hm. Nice choice, ” said Dallas as she begins to remove her dress. Jack glances at Dallas now in only her silk bra and panties.

“Baby. Your body is smoking!” said Jack.

Dallas places her finger on Jack’s mouth.

“Don’t imitate us. You're so much better than that, ” said Dallas.

“... Should. I remove my clothes now?” asks Jack.

“Yes. You definitely should, Jack, ” said Dallas as she moves in. Dallas places her lips upon Jack’s as the pair slink onto the bed. Jack thrusts into Dallas, back and forth at an unhumanly pace. Dallas moans with pleasure as Jack maintains a apathetic countenance. Thrusting and gyrating until Dallas can take not more.

Jack and Dallas lie in bed. Jack tries his best to imitate what a human might do at this point. Dallas awakes.

“Hey, ” said Dallas.

“Hi, ” said Jack.

“Was... Was I satisfactory?” asked Jack.

Dallas smiles.

“Yes. You were more than satisfactory, Mr. Johnson.” Jack sits up. Looking about the room, Jack peers over at Dallas.

“I don't get it, ” said Jack.

“What?” asked Dallas.

“Sexual intercourse, ” said Jack, ” I don't understand. It's a simple exchange of bodily fluids to create offspring. Why you humans engage in this practice beyond that fact is beyond me.”

“I've tried to understand. I've even pretended to feel what you feel... But this practice is so baffling to me, ” said Jack.

Dallas rises from the bed and heads toward Jack. She places her hand on his face and gives him a kiss.

“ That’s your problem. You're overthinking it, ” said Dallas as she gets dressed, places her thumb on the transparent display wall, and exits the room.

Jack sits on the corner of the bed. A small smile forms on his face.

End.