Elon
The Criminal
Phew, They Can't Replace Us

*Somewhere in California - lunchtime*

Elon, in the middle of uploading his soup, abrubtly sprayed it all over whatever he uses for a desk.

He threw his telephone onto the floor. ‘Guys!’ he spluttered, loudly enough for the whole office to hear; ‘Joby, mid-career designer, has added some new work to his studio website’. Nanoseconds later, the robot workforce gasped in unison, and one early AI machine—the one near the photocopier—quietly disgraced its metal trousers and blew up.

Word spread fast, and soon actual humans everywhere in the world were looking at the website (optimised for most devices and scoring high on Google). Peering cautiously at first, but soon utterly transfixed, and staring really hard at it for over one minute. Laughing with joy, then crying in wonder, then laughing again, before finally adjusting their clothes and dancing into exhaustion.

And because the website was safe for children and domestic pets, they were going nuts for it too.

The earth just sighed, and continued slowly turning.

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