Meatbags and Screwheads

I acknowledged.

"You see Trey, there are two types of people in the world. Dead, and dying."

I scanned back to my knowledge of history. He was right. Meatbags rot.

"Stay with me Mr. Edison - and there are two types of screwheads - I knew what you were thinking. Dumb Bots, and AI Andz. You are lucky enough to be an And."

My processing power heavily outweighed the speed with which he was talking. Robots get bored too. I cut him off.

"Green, get to the point."

He finally did.

"You will recognize, Trey, that we call Bots Andz, and so most Andz are not _intelligent_. In fact, despite popular belief, _none_ are."

I was about to disagree, running my scanner in overdrive trying to find evidence to disprove him. I *failed*. Didn't I have AI? We doubt too.

"None except for you, as you surely have discerned."

Taking his words as a temporary fact, I had to ask.

"So what in all hell did I make this house call for?"

"You will also find, Mr. Edison, that you suffer from the human affliction of dying."

"I what?"