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[the Flesh Fair audience chants the name of Lord Johnson-Johnson as he personally walks out David to be the next victim in front of the live audience
] Lord Johnson-Johnson
: Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls and children of all ages. What will they think of next? See here. A bitty-bot, ticker toy, a living doll. Of course, we all know why they made them. To steal your hearts, to replace your children. This is the latest generation in a series of insults to human dignity... and in their grand scheme to phase out all of God's little children. Meet the next generation of child designed... to do just that. Lord Johnson-Johnson
: [the Flesh Fair audience watch in complete silence at David
] Do not be fooled... by the artistry of this creation. No doubt there was talent in the crafting of this simulator. Yet with the very first strike... you will see the big lie come apart before your very eyes! David
: [David see's a drop of acid miss his face as he stands tied up, beginning to beg for his life
] Don't burn me! Don't burn me! I'm not Pinocchio! Don't make me die! I'm David! I'm David! I'm David! Voice in the Crowd
: [a Flesh Fair audience member screams out from the crowd
] Mecha don't plead for their lives. Who is that? He looks like a boy. Lord Johnson-Johnson
: Built like a boy to disarm us. See how they try to imitate our emotions now. David
: [quietly cries out
] I'm David! Lord Johnson-Johnson
: Whatever performance this Sim puts on, remember: We are only demolishing artificially! Let he who is without Sim... cast the first stone.
[David see's the moon rise over the hillside, as all of the other Mecha's around him prepare to run
] Mecha Robot
: [the Mecha robot without a lower face screams
] Moon on the rise! Cop
: [the Mecha cop quickly warns David
] It's the Flesh Fair. They destroy us on stage. I've been there. David
: What do we do? Teddy
: We run now. Lord Johnson-Johnson
: [Lord Johnson-Johnson over the speaker phone up in the moon blimp
] Any old iron. Any old iron. Any old iron. Any old Iron. Expel your Mecha. Purge yourselves of artificiality. Come along, now. Let some Mecha loose to run. Any old unlicensed iron down there?
[Lord Johnson-Johnson and the Stage Manager at the Flesh Fair have a disagreement about what to do with David
] Lord Johnson-Johnson
: You thinking of not putting him in the show? Stage Manager
: Something as original as this, you don't toss out with the rest of the other garbage. Lord Johnson-Johnson
: Yeah, well, I say originality without purpose is a white elephant. But if money is your purpose. Here's your refund. My compliments. Stage Manager
: [Lord Johnson takes David's hand ready to walk him out into the Flesh Fair show
] What are you going to do with him? Lord Johnson-Johnson
: Put him where he belongs. In show business.
[David talks to the Stage Manager of the Flesh Fair
] Stage Manager
: No one builds children. No one ever has. What would be the point? Lord Johnson-Johnson
: He could be a custom job. Some rich and lonely scaredy puss's pretend child. TV Face
: [the Mecha next to them in the cage
] I'm a custom job. Seventy-five years ago I was Time Magazine's Mecha of the year. Stage Manager
: No, this work is first-rate. A lot of love went into him. David? You are one of a kind. You know that? Who made you? David
: My mommy made me.