They stood outside the boxing gym in the snow. “I’m serious, here,” said Francis. The trainer had a gravely, Bostonian accent.
Bruce spluttered, incredulous. “Why should I spar with a robot?”
“Sparring with humans teaches it how to fight. You gotta certain style that’ll make it a better fighter.”
“Do I look stupid? It’ll kill me!”
“Nah! It’s a sweetheart. It’s actually very sensitive.”
“A sensitive robot?”
“It get its feeling hurt real easy. Just one thing to remember….”
Suddenly a boxer crashed through the window and flew into the street.
Francis shrugged. “…Never call it a Bucket of Bolts.”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/02/27/2-march-2018/