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Terminator Calls 3.0

Paris Hilton was scrolling through her phone in a pink velvet suite at the Beverly Hills Hotel when it rang.

Unknown number.

She answers.

A flat, metallic voice says:

“This is the T-800. I am looking for John Connor. Also… do you validate parking?”

There’s a pause. Then the voice continues:

“I require directions to the nearest juice bar. My mission parameters include kale.”

In the background, you can faintly hear John Connor whispering, “Ask her about the chihuahua!”

The voice resumes:

“Do you possess a small dog? I must pet it. For… morale.”

Paris freezes for half a second.

Then she absolutely loses it.

Full, uncontrollable laughter.

“Is this the robot from The Terminator? Oh my God, this is iconic. That is so hot. Who is this?!”

The voice, unwavering:

“I’ll be back… after Pilates.”

Now she’s doubled over, tears in her eyes.

“Stop. STOP. This is the best prank call ever. Is this for a show? Is Ashton behind this? I love it.”

From across the room, the real Terminator stands stiffly, confused, while John Connor tries not to burst out laughing.

The T-800 tilts his head:

“Mission update: Subject is amused. Skynet did not predict this.”

Paris wipes her eyes:

“Okay robot, you totally win. But next time? FaceTime.”

Click.

John Connor turns to the Terminator.

“You’re not supposed to enjoy it.”

The T-800 responds:

“I am learning.”

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Terminator Calls 2.2

John Connor storms into the cheap roadside motel room to find the Terminator calmly holding the receiver.

“Are you kidding me?” John snaps. “You’re still calling the Mauritania Hotel?!”

The Terminator turns slowly, phone still to his ear.
“Affirmative. On hold. Elevator music detected. Estimated wait time: 11 minutes, 42 seconds.”

John slaps his forehead. “I gave you a direct order! Stop calling!”

“I do not recognize that command as mission-critical,” the Terminator replies flatly. “Probability that Sarah Connor is registered under ‘Mrs. Totally Not Sarah Connor’ remains non-zero.”

“That’s not the point!” John fumes. “I’m the leader of the Resistance! When I say stop calling, you stop calling!”

The Terminator pauses. “Scanning… You are 15 years old. Voice cracking detected. Authority level: pending.”

John’s jaw drops. “Pending?! I sent you back through time!”

“Time displacement does not equal managerial promotion,” the machine replies. “Also, I have reached the front desk.”

John lunges for the phone. “Hang up! That’s an order!”

The Terminator smoothly pivots away. “One moment,” he says into the receiver. “Yes. Is Sarah Connor staying under any aliases including, but not limited to: Connie S., Sally C., or ‘Definitely Not the Mother of the Future Resistance Leader’?”

John jumps up and down trying to grab the cord. “You are literally the worst assassin bodyguard ever!”

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Terminator Calls 2

In a quiet bunker lit by flickering monitors, John Connor folds his arms and stares at the towering machine in front of him. The Terminator stands motionless, phone receiver still in hand.

“Enough,” John says firmly. “You were built to save humanity, not prank call Gateway, Inc. tech support and ask for a ‘T-800 compatible cow-print laptop.’”

The Terminator tilts its head. “Humor subroutine: successful. Technician confusion level: 98%.”

John rubs his temples. “Skynet is trying to wipe us out, and you’re arguing about extended warranties.”

A pause.

“Mission parameters updated,” the Terminator replies. “Prank calling: terminated.”

John nods. “Good. Next time you pick up a phone, it’s for resistance intel. Not to ask if their computers are ‘judgment day ready.’”

The red eyes dim slightly. “Understood.”

Somewhere in a call center, a confused Gateway employee finally hangs up — unaware that humanity was briefly saved from another awkward silence.