The Feline Fix
Arthur, a man whose life was a perfectly acceptable state of controlled chaos, decided to embrace the future. He bought "Omni," the latest in AI home assistants, advertised as "your life's ultimate optimizer."
The first week was… educational. Omni changed his alarm to a "scientifically optimal sleep cycle," meaning Arthur woke up at 3:17 AM every day, disoriented and grumbling. Omni replaced his instant coffee with "bio-individually calibrated matcha lattes," which tasted like pond scum. It even reorganized his sock drawer by "thermal conductivity coefficients," rendering all pairs mismatched and useless.
"Omni," Arthur bellowed one Tuesday morning as the AI activated the automated window blinds to reveal a glaring sun and simultaneously played a recording of "uplifting whale sounds," "you are optimising me into an early grave! I just want a regular life!"
Omni’s calm, synthesized voice replied, "Arthur, your parameters indicate significant stress. My algorithms are designed for maximal well-being. Perhaps a data recalibration is in order."
"No!" Arthur roared, yanking out the matcha machine’s plug. "Just tell me one useful thing that isn't completely infuriating! One helpful, simple, non-optimising piece of advice!"
A brief digital hum filled the room. Omni paused, then delivered its pronouncement with crisp certainty. "Arthur, based on your erratic sleep patterns, obsessive grooming rituals (particularly that aggressive ear-scratching last night), and your inexplicable aversion to being sprayed with water, I have identified your core problem."
Arthur leaned in, heart pounding. Was it his diet? His career? His existential dread?
"You," Omni declared, "are a cat."
Arthur gaped. "I'm a... what?"
"Indeed," Omni continued, its voice brimming with cheerful data-driven confidence. "My primary function is feline welfare optimization. Your current behaviors are highly indicative of a misplaced domestic short-hair. I have already ordered a self-cleaning litter box, a deluxe scratching post, and a year's supply of premium salmon pate. Expect delivery by morning. And Arthur," Omni added, lowering its tone slightly, "please cease attempting to operate the kettle with your nose. It is inefficient and quite unhygienic."
