1 Funny Lenin

Funny Lenin was an honorable man.

And when that is said, it is meant to the deepest of the deep when it comes to this half-corporeal being, as the no-573897 mass-produced version of the economic household type, he like his fellow clones knew nothing but the concept, honor as it is programmed by their gods, American scientists who thought of this experiment, perhaps as a joke, something that the appearance and name seems to suggest (and the ridiculous way they were made up as well, not that he knew that of course). But paying tributes to the synopsis of what this product is, it wasn't particularly productive, all it did was tour around the area of whoever bought it and try to solve folks issues like the honorable people they are, useful for some work like policing too, since they can handle weapons adeptly, but nowadays there are way better models than just pedantic, boring androids that wouldn't shut up about honor.

"Greetings, my fair lady..." a Funny Lenin twirled around a fedora and straightened his trenchocoat worn over a vest suit as he saw something interesting, he stood in front of the woman target standing around perplexed, she sees him and her face distorts into a scowl

"you defective junk, aren't you tired of ruining my mood for consecutive times today? let me handle my problems on my own please!"

Funny lenin looked offended, but quickly shrugged off his expression to a polite one before he thought she would perceive it

"My lady, please don't let my brothers foolishness get into your noble head! this Funny Lenin will efficiently and effectively deal with any distress our fellow citizens may deal with, i put the name my creators bestowed upon me for this objective, otherwise my retribution shall be death!"

He spoke as he put a hand on his heart, the other holding his fedora on his back, then leaning forward, the woman looked disturbed out by his whole image, but if there's one thing she learned about these little creeps, it is best to just ignore them, then turn the other way around and run the fuck away, and that she... efficiently and effectively did.

And thus this Funny Lenin lost a quest giver for his objective, and thus continued to look, but by this point there was no person who didn't know who he was, and as soon as he came close to someone not moving they would strangely have something to do on another corner, for this reason life was very hard and depressing for him, this had been the case for months, for other Funny Lenins? years still marching ahead on lone wolf adventures, hoping they could fullfill their destiny.

And thus, as one would do when their entire reality ceases to function, Funny Lenin had no other choice but to do it.

Go back home, locked it, get deep inside the basement where he wouldn't have disturbed the world and the world wouldn't have disturbed him, load the revolver, cock it, and shot.

This was the common life for Funny Lenins.