Name: Coccinea Machinamentum Ornatus
Race: [ ] Space Human [ ] Space Lizard [ ] Space Moose [ ] Space Lobster [X] Other (explain) - Mechanical Space Banana
Although comprised on discrete gears springs and other mechanical connectors, I am fully ambulatory, non-perishable, and possess a Type 3 intelligence on the Chiquita-Turing scale. I am fully autonomous and in possession of perhaps more self-ownership documents than anybody else. I am not edible, for most definitions of “edible”, nor am I susceptible to the Brown Blotch, Cigar-End, Crown-Rot or any other known digital Musaceaenoid vector (since I am not digital). I am considered an Organic Entity (non-digital) for purposes of law, although the majority of my components are replaceable, separately, without loss of consciousness, identity, or memory.
Preferred training format: [ ] SpaceTube Videos [ ] Hands-on demonstrations [X] Implanted memories [X] Interpretive dance [ ] Lecture hall, midterm, and final exam [ ] Waive the recommended training sequence (explain)
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Most mechanical bananas are sessile, preferring a quiet life of tick-tocking contemplation on the clockwork plantation of choice. Although studious and devout as a youth with a refined appreciation for divers arts, I lit out for the space territories once I completed my Gear-Levels (fully-toothed) and received my monocle and hat. The spats and cane were awarded for various services I am not at liberty to divulge at this time, but the aftermath of which do necessitate the procurement of employment at this time with a reputable, if discreet, employer. The gloves I wear purely for the sake of modesty.
As regards training, while I do enjoy a patriotic ballet or martial tap-dance, if time does not permit I contain all standard pan-galactic ports for communication with the proper handshake protocols.
Speaking of handshakes, I am also undecim digitis, and have sometimes been known to intimates as “Sixfinger Moe”:
It comes with a variety of attachments which aid in communication, defense, offense, entertainment, and the minute investigation of unknown environs down to the Planck length whether illuminated, enshrouded, exposed to vacuum or entombed in various strata.
I also speak the binary language of load lifters and moisture vaporators, and am conversant with a wide variety of humor appropriate for occasions such as smokers, roasts, steak dinners, bar mitzvahs and retirement parties:
Shi: Knock-knock!
Bo: Who’s there?
Shi: Princess.
Bo: Princess who?
Shi: Tricked you - it’s a princess poop!
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