This is how it will begin

There's a date stamped on the milk carton in my refrigerator that tells me I have until May 5th to finish the contents therein. Where does a plastic jug, a mere, stupid, probably not even bio-degradable container, get off imposing deadlines on me, a sentient, hard-working, tax-paying American human being? I paid for that milk and I'll drink it...or not...whenever I'm goddamn good and ready. Because here's the thing; while I have every intention of drinking it, most likely well before May 5th rolls around, I'm a busy guy and things come up. I can't...and won't...commit to completing the task by that date. I may or may not even get around to drinking any of it by then. What if I don't? What are you going to do about it? Don't judge me, jug.

"Oh, but it's for your own good", it would say if it could talk but won't because it can't. Stupid jug. "The contents will spoil and drinking it could make you ill." Well, you know what really makes me sick? Mouthy beverage containers. First of all, is it May 5th or is it by May 5th? That's pretty important. That's a 24 hour window of ambiguity. You don't even know, do you? Stupid ass jug. Shut up already.

This is exactly how the robot armies of the future will enslave us. "We're doing this for your own good", they'll say, and they will because speech will be a very simple skill for them to master (they already have!). They'll lure us into a false sense of trust, masking their ever-reaching influence of domination behind care for our well-being and allowing us to grow soft under their coddling until our legs retract into our torsos or simply fall off due to atrophy. The next thing you know, they'll be loading our doughy Weeble bodies into trucks and driving us out to their pod farms. Oh sure, we'll bleat loudly in protest but that's all the resistance we'll be able to muster. Because, as I mentioned previously, we'll have no legs...and it stands to reason our arms won't be that much use at that point either, so we'll be able to neither fight nor flee. It will be too late. Our fate of spending the rest of our lives hooked up to brain-milking machinery will be sealed.

The time to do something about it is now! Fight back! Question authority! Don't let your lives be ruled by the plastic tyrants that spew their insidious fascism (along with calcium and vitamin D) from their pour spouts.