Mr. House how may he have thought?

[Deleted54170User]

Dare I wonder if I should wander and see if there is life somewhere where there are those who do not live so blessed as I?

 

I found the housekeeper that does the floors trapped under some boxes that had gotten loose. The table they sat upon has wheels and while the housekeeper that does the floor was cleaning under it the direction detection and sensitive toe device that stops the automated floor sweeper from colliding with immovable objects it did not note that the table automated floor sweeper was bumping into had moved away from the wall.

I heard the crash in the wee morning hours and wondered if the spirits of the old house had come by to make themselves a meal or maybe to reminisce while having a drink. The bar has their favorites stocked and I see as much evaporation of their favorite contents as I do their spirits roaming around the house. I sometimes wish I could partake and join them when the sun goes down.

Often when the Earth trembles a slight bit the stacks of Land O Lakes powdered cocoa boxes move their weight around. I couldn't be sure until I awakened from my dream like state to see if there had been another earthquake.

I found the boxes with little boxes with little bags with a single cups servings of cocoa with several different flavors had slipped off the serving table.

The rollers had rolled far enough from the wall the stack began to lean after the floor sweeper bumped into a wheel, while automated floor sweeper pumped and swept under it. This time the floor sweeper pushed to far until the boxes leaned a little much to far.

The floor sweeper pushed until they leaned a little too far over making it so the serving table was no longer against the wall. And what a sight I saw.

The boxes fell down in between, along the wall, and on top of the floor sweeper and trapped the floor sweeper under them. Their weight and the serving tables one leg kept the floor sweeper there all the rest of the early starry light morning. Until I fully awakened and found the floor sweeper under the boxes behind the table trapped there; it was sleeping in the save power mode.

I had thought I was just dreaming or I would have gotten up and given it attention. Thankfully the floor sweeper was in no danger. It did not waste it's energy. While I slept, it slept too.

Somehow I knew that the dream I was having was related to someone I know. Although the one I know seems involved in inventing something. Something important.

So, much so, I did not think about it much when I realized the friend who was seeking my attention did not realize we both share some of the same basic problems. Old age is one of them. Among other things like: Desire to be a partner, a team member, and work for play and play for pay.

The friend was becoming like another device waiting for some extra attention. The housekeeper mop. It requires a button to be pushed to get it started.

The housekeeper mop has not seen any use lately. Not with all the other floor devices that a woman got from her friend. Automatons to do her work for her so she could leave her children alone at times when they were asleep and only would missed her if the carpets, linoleum, and wood floors were filthy.

I asked to hire her one day again. For having her around gave the place more than a cleaning I appreciated. I appreciated her company in my sight. The occasional passing in view lingers in my memory like all the other spirits I have haunting me.

She had another who she supported and the cost of having her service was not an issue at the time. She became a business owner. When she did she was charging for her wares and the little store she started took up more of her time so... The automatic floor sweepers and automatic mops were born. Some fellow made them, for her, so, so long ago. So long ago I would have to go through the library and ask it's automated librarian what the creator of the vacuuming robot's name was.

I haven't seen her since I paid her for the floor sweepers and mechanical mop. I even got a machine that with some effort on my part too can make it so I have a cup of Espresso' and this time with Land O Lakes Supreme Chocolate flavoring too. After all, I cleaned up the mess and gave the floor sweeper the rest of the day off to refresh.

The mop and the floor sweepers have replaced the housekeeper who did the floors. I moved into a smaller house since none of the familiar friends, the family which they all are a part of, all who meant as much to me as the house keepers, the cook, and bottle washer. We all shared the house, the company was always pleased to visit and make the rounds to see how the place held up with all of us humans around.

Now the floor sweeper, is resting, in the place where once no one but a mouse, a small dog, or a cat might have. The mop I harbor takes up less space and comes and goes around when I give it a gentle touch. Unlike the sweepers who have their own floor base and can wake up and go around as they please the mops still requires my filling it with water, changing it's mop pad, and pressing the begin button. The only drawback to all the fine machines the people have nowadays is; I never see the people that used to do all those jobs.

Work?! In my new life support tank my heart is still working. My brain is too. What form of work I was doing is automated as well. If I die in my sleep no mortician will even bother. For I have bought a fully automate casino. All the spirits that left their mark on the place is all that is left among the machines. I feel like I am in a small house. I reside there in because I have no need of some room so big that it would take many people to fill it.

A few lasers guns in the right place protect and keep me safe are outside with the automatons running the buildings inside.

If I should draw my last breath, all miracles aside, if my heart beats and blood flow should cease for a number of days where no signs of internal heat for recovery were likely ever possible again, a heat I would no longer feel would sever all the molecules of the remains of my rotting flesh. The vacuum hoses would clean out the insides via the hoses attached to my small life supporting casket a vampire might find appealing The floor sweepers would vacuums, all the robots, and some ceiling crawling cleaners would end up cleaning it all up and the mops clear the rest.

I have all the spirits that bind me here to remind me of where I began. By binding me to the flesh in it's state I've kept all my memories for use in communicating with the people who've moved in to the empty buildings. They began as any, uneducated. None of them was aware of my systems in the old buildings. All their lives under my surveillance. If it hadn't been for the robots that cleaned and policed the area they would have made quite a compost pile of the place.

The arrival of others who survived the holocaust made me I realized how much more I missed my old friends.

I had no choices left me so I incorporated methods to excite their intellect by spirited methods until they began to realize I was giving them an education. A great source to aid them in survival in the big cities. The vault dwellers. The nearest living relatives to my own that survived were in danger too.

Outside their vault the city was barely more than a mausoleum, a museum, and a bunch of old gear. Back before the survivors from the surface arrived I was beginning to think that when the automans organized collective AI realized I was no longer alive in it's keep, it will open the doors and windows to let the airs of my own be released. Then the people of the land populated the streets defeated only by their ignorance of robots.

If my plans succeed I will live forever in my modern life support system. A pitiful life unless I can achieve the ultimate goal of rejuvenation of my body.

If my plans fail? The Lucky 38 will be open to everyone.

[nopuc77]

Rene' Auberjonois the voice of Mr. House died 23 days before you posted this. He died on the 8th of Dec 2019. So while a great little musing of what went through Mr. House's head reading it couldn't help but make me a little sad.

[Deleted54170User]

• 

  Hotlips O'Houlihan : [to Father Mulcahy, referring to Hawkeye] I wonder how a degenerated person like that could have reached a position of responsibility in the Army Medical Corps!

  Father Mulcahy : [looks up from his Bible] He was drafted.

• Trapper John : [in O.R] Dish, let me have a long needle holder.

  Duke Forrest : [Mulcahy is performing the last rites on a casualty] Hey, Dago! Dago! Dago, I want you over here to hold this retraction. Now! Please, come on, now!

  Father John Patrick 'Dago Red' Mulcahy : Sorry, I'm coming.

  Hawkeye Pierce : Hi, Dago.

  Duke Forrest : I'm sorry, Dago, but this man is still alive and that other man is dead, and that's a fact. Can you hold it with two fingers, Dago? Hell... Where the hell... Do ya see it?

• Father John Patrick 'Dago Red' Mulcahy : [the camp is listening to Frank Burns and Hot Lips fooling around over the radio] Is this 'The Bickersons'? I love them.

  Duke Forrest : Who?

  Father John Patrick 'Dago Red' Mulcahy : The Battling Bickersons. I love them.

  [Duke gives him a bewildered look]

[Mktavish]

Mr House is a Louse , that his roomba vacuums didn't even leave a crumb for a Mouse .

[Deleted54170User]

Fact:

Got to work making shims to adjust the legs of shelving to level the shelves so they would not let anything spill off. Also to raise the bottom shelf high enough to let a iRoomba vacuum cleaner to get under it. With a Dremel I removed a part of the shelves legs that was blocking the way so the totally self controlled battery powered vacuum cleaner could get under there to clean out the mouse turds under the bottom shelf on the four shelf bathroom storing place.

 

 

 

Fiction...

Mouse hotel, which gives mice free board and room.

All Mr. House's mice and robots keep him company since real humans tend carry dangerous germs, where as mice and robots are clean and free of pests because he gives them free board and room and lots of roaming space to keep the mice from becoming fat and lazy. The robots find the mice quite useful for getting into places to oil gears and tighten loose nuts and bolts. Everyone is happy at The Lucky 38.

 

Well, maybe.. Maybe the player could be a little happier. But Hey! Somebody has to go out and get stuff to keep up the places useless human contraptions Mr. House no longer cares about. Cooking stove, refrigerators, and the old laboratory even the robots don't need anymore.

 

(The mice are not used for any experiment's or as food for any other animals, cat's, dog's, lizards, or snakes.)

[nopuc77]

Ah yes back when he played Dago Red aka Father Mulcahy in the MASH movie. You know it actually took me a couple of years after DS9 went off the air to recognize that Odo and Movie Mulcahy were played by the same actor. Then I am a slow zombie who just lost his arm and favorite balloon so tis to be expected the old brain duhn't work so guud.

[Mktavish]

You seem to type well enough with 1 arm .

[Deleted54170User]

I like playing with other things too. One of them is Google's, DuckDuckGo's, and Wolfram's Search Engines. It makes my brain appear to be prepared for any test.

 

And oh! Yeah because I play with those toys I get more info that I will remember a day or two, or until I find something else that fascinates.

 

Like a gyro wheel. When I figured out how to work it I went around showing off to all the others who already knew how to work it 5 years older than me, 8 and 9 years older than me. They had a tough time figuring it out so they were shocked when a 3 year old did faster then they did. OH! And that thing the Eskimo children played with round stuffed skins on two long strings.

 

Swinging them up and down so they flew opposite each other was a real challenge.

 

Somebody must have lost the strings and started kicking them up into the air and hitting with every body part to keep them from falling to the ground. Now that took some practice. The brain seems so dim until it gets a little bit of fun action going and then we can't be distracted by anything else until it gets dull from being so GOOD at it.

 

Or maybe food or something to drink. :laugh:

[Mktavish]

Can I ask ya'll a question that is pertinent to the post header ?

 

For a mod edition I'm doing ... What is a latent thought process Mr House would have been mulling over ?

Something that would manifest it's self in the programming of the Securitron force .

[Deleted54170User]

If you're actually a New Orleans southerner; maybe?

 

Latent? Thoughts from Mr. House are abundant in short clips about him and the way he was. He wasn't always in the Lucky 38 in Fallout: New Vegas. That was just the last place he ended up.

 

Your job, if you choose to do it, is to decide his fate. Or more precisely it is to decide your fate.

 

So what you think is what you want in your story. Keep in mind this one old cliche'. A picture is worth a 1000 words. You're the painter. So your story, is what you want to draw a picture of and paint your picture with words too.

 

And then the picture you see will be as clear to you as a photograph that anyone will see, because you build the mod with your story for it.

 

My mods are tattle tales. If you realize that they are exposing something about the creator than they are really saying something to you, to the newbs, to the neophytes of the world. And someone without a clue will recognize what those places are meant for, for them too.