confession
Original: confession on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1:
Woman: John, I have a confession to make.
Panel 2:
John (a man with a beard): Tell me. Tell me anything. Our love is strong.
Panel 3:
Woman: Over the last ten years, I've been slowly replacing all of the cells in your body with tiny robotic parts that perform the identical function.
Panel 4:
Woman: The process was so gradual, you didn't perceive it. Indeed, it was imperceptible.
Panel 5:
Woman: You are dead, John. There is no you. Only a thing. I don't know if souls are real, but I do know that the being before me lacks one.
Panel 6:
John: But why?
Panel 7 (caption: TEN YEARS AGO...):
Woman (entering the room, excited): I got that job working in nanomachines!
John (relaxing on a couch, reading): That's nice but it's a totally overhyped technology.
Votey:
Woman (looking sad, with a tear): I hope we can remain friends.
Woman: John, I have a confession to make.
Panel 2:
John (a man with a beard): Tell me. Tell me anything. Our love is strong.
Panel 3:
Woman: Over the last ten years, I've been slowly replacing all of the cells in your body with tiny robotic parts that perform the identical function.
Panel 4:
Woman: The process was so gradual, you didn't perceive it. Indeed, it was imperceptible.
Panel 5:
Woman: You are dead, John. There is no you. Only a thing. I don't know if souls are real, but I do know that the being before me lacks one.
Panel 6:
John: But why?
Panel 7 (caption: TEN YEARS AGO...):
Woman (entering the room, excited): I got that job working in nanomachines!
John (relaxing on a couch, reading): That's nice but it's a totally overhyped technology.
Votey:
Woman (looking sad, with a tear): I hope we can remain friends.
Alt text
A seven-panel SMBC comic. A woman calmly confesses to a bearded man named John that she has a confession to make. He reassures her: "Tell me anything. Our love is strong." She explains that over the last ten years she has slowly replaced all the cells in his body with tiny robotic parts performing the identical function, so gradually it was imperceptible. She declares, "You are dead, John. There is no you. Only a thing... the being before me lacks [a soul]." John, now revealed as fully robotic, asks "But why?" A flashback captioned TEN YEARS AGO shows the woman bursting in excited that she got a job working in nanomachines, while a relaxed John dismisses it: "That's nice but it's a totally overhyped technology" — the petty motive for replacing him cell by cell. Votey: a close-up of the woman looking sad with a single tear, saying "I hope we can remain friends."
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.