And now… Time to ponder for a moment as to what professional Purveyor of Phunk Cee-Lo Green is Probably Doing Right Now.
If I had to guess… (and I do, or otherwise there’s nothing to write here)… I’d say that right now, Cee-Lo is probably in Japan, hunched over a metal work desk looking into the lone eye of a tiny robot.
“Hello, little one,” he who is called Lo says softly.
The digital iris flickers in recognition and the machine immediately responds: “Hell0, Mr. Gr33n, very nice to m33t y0u.” Then he says it in French. Then Arabic. Then a tongue neither man in the room recognizes but is actually a dead language from a lost Himalayan civilization.
“My God, Dr. Tamachi, you’ve done it!”
“It is all because of you, Cee-Lo-San. Without your generous contribution to the facility, I never would have perfected this… this admittedly magnificent accomplishment. You sir, are a true patron of both the arts and the sciences and we, myself and my team, are indebted to you for -”
“-I’ll take forty of them shits.”
Dr. Tamachi is silent for a moment. Having lived in London for ten years during his youth, his English is practically perfect. But still, he struggles to find the word he is looking for, one to accurately convey the confusion he feels in his chest. “You… you would like for us to… manufacture forty highly sophisticated… sentient androids. For you to own.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for them.” Cee Lo reaches into the pocket of his Adidas track paints, the twinkly Christmas lights down the piping fluttering in response. Lo pulls out a wad of what can only be described as an unhealthy amount of cash for any one person to have at all, let alone on his person. The wad of $100’s is illuminated by alternatingly green and red LED lights from his entire body.
“Cee-Lo-San, it’s not the… what are you going to do with forty sentient robots?”
“Imma set them up in the foyer of my house so that they can greet people. Then they’ll start to sing and I’ll come down the stairs like a baller.”
Dr. Tamachi strokes his temples gently and closes his eyes.
After a long pause, Cee-Lo continues: “Probably wearing, like, a futuristic suit of armor or some shit.”