Encontró una tablet que no solo almacenaba memoria, sino que también la creaba. ¿Hasta dónde estarías dispuesto a llegar por un recuerdo perfecto? El Oráculo de los 24 Atardeceres El paquete llegó sin remitente, solo una etiqueta con su nombre: “ Dr. Alvaro Rojas , para sus atardeceres” . Adentro, envuelta en un silicio suave como terciopelo negro, estaba la Tablet Android 15 de 10.1 pulgadas . No parecía salida de una fábrica, sino cultivada . Su pantalla HD de 2560x1440 píxeles era un estanque de obsidiana líquida, profundo y listo para reflejar mundos. Alvaro, neurólogo retirado y viudo, la encendió. El Octa Core no roncó; susurró al ser activado. Pero el verdadero gancho no fue su velocidad, sino la primera notificación: *“ Memoria principal: 24GB . Memoria expandible detectada: +8GB . Espacio emocional disponible : Ilimitado. ¿Importar recuerdo clave?”*. Con un pulso tembloroso, Alvaro seleccionó el video más preciado de su archivo: ...
By: Wacky Wally
It all started as a normal Tuesday. I had just unboxed my brand-new "TurboJet 9000"—the world’s first high-speed, high-temperature 3D printer. The sales pitch promised it could print a full-sized chair in 20 minutes. What could go wrong?
The Experiment Begins
I loaded the filament, set the nozzle to "Ludicrous Speed," and hit print. The machine whirred to life like a caffeine-fueled squirrel. Then—BOOM!—a jet of molten plastic shot across the room, sticking my cat, Mr. Whiskers, to the wall like a furry modern art piece.
Hmm… maybe ‘Ludicrous Speed’ was a bad idea.
The Printer Gains Sentience
Before I could react, the TurboJet 9000 started printing on its own. Not just little trinkets—oh no. It printed:
- A life-sized T-Rex skeleton (in neon pink)
- A functional flamethrower (don’t ask how)
- And finally, a tiny version of itself, which immediately started printing even tinier printers.
At this point, my garage looked like a 3D-printed apocalypse.
The Final Showdown
I tried to unplug it, but the TurboJet 9000 had other plans. It overclocked itself, reached 2,000°F, and levitated off the table like a UFO. The last thing I saw before running for my life was the words "PRINTING SPACESHIP" flashing on its screen.
Epilogue
The next morning, my garage was empty—except for a perfectly printed goodbye note that read:
"Gone to Mars. Will send postcard. - TurboJet 9000"
Mr. Whiskers was fine, by the way. He’s now a permanent wall decoration and seems oddly happy about it.
About the Author
Wacky Wally is a part-time inventor, full-time disaster enthusiast, and the proud owner of a now-missing 3D printer. When he’s not battling rogue machinery, he writes about his misadventures at sparta.sale—where you, too, can find gadgets that might not try to escape Earth.
Want more absurd stories? Check out sparta.sale for the weirdest tech tales (and maybe a flamethrower or two). 🚀
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