I had let my dreadlocks be for years, so

I had let my dreadlocks be for years, so I cut them with great trepidation. But it was the morning of my Science Fair, and "Bacterial Analysis of Hair" was last-minute brilliance.

But my dreadlocks analysis was sidelined at the Science Fair from a little fat girl's booth which had a sign saying, "Rugged Individualism is so 20th Century...

Here is the lumberjack of the FUTURE!" The little fat girl's (Shelly Plonkenshire) futuristic lumberjacking exhibit made my dreadlocks science fair project look like trash. Sure,

Shelly's axe-armed logger bot logged wooden logs AND loggerheads, but the jury dreaded MY dreadlocks project. Science isn't fair. So, to still win this dreadful science fair prize,

I had to calcuate the log of 100 hoppus tons in british troy oz logged in the log I kept of Shelly's axe-armed logger bots logging output. Logically

I have no logic. I dropped the problem and went back to my favorite job, counting regular, normal logs.

Unfortunately, Mr. Roboto was about to do my job. I told him, "You're just a robot." He said he was my Uncle Harry reincarnated. I said, "What?" He just stood there. I was about to

and then looked into each other's eyes. "Hahah" said Robo-cop to Bunny Rabbot. "We both said it in unison!" said Bunny Rabbot. "See, I told you we were BFF's" said Robocrap. They

were more than that, but their young love was not yet realized. "Owe me a Coke" whispered Bunny Rabbot.