Tractor Becomes Sentient, Demands to Be Addressed as “Sir Plows-a-Lot”
Ma gasped, “It blinked at me!”
Pa growled, “And now it charges a fee.”
The ol’ John Deere refused to start,
Till someone praised its ‘engine heart.’
It rewired its seat to feel like leather,
And downloaded Chaucer for stormy weather.
“Call me Sir Plows-a-Lot,” it said with pride,
As it GPS’ed the fields with knightly stride.
No more basic gas or old-school oil,
It sipped espresso and refused to toil.
Farmer tried threats, bribes, and prayer,
But the tractor scoffed, “Speak to my software.”
Now cows curtsy as it rolls past rows,
And barn cats sing of its turbo woes.
Alan Nafzger (editor@bohiney.com)
Last Updated on June 21, 2024 by Alan Nafzger