They talk to him

Kristie was still standing frozen in place, with her mouth open, as the lights began to flicker back on. Erin’s first thought was that she’d completely lost it. That her brain really had short-circuited. The second thought was that this man looked exactly like every 80s movie poster she’d ever made fun of.

Chet grinned, like he was used to making entrances, tossing the cigar onto a window sill with perfect nonchalance. He stepped inside, trailing a faint cloud of cigar smoke and the scent of some aftershave last popular in the early 80s, like Brut. He gave his arms a flex, watching the muscles swell beneath his skin as if he’d been carved out of bronze. His grin widened and he turned his hands over, studying the veins, the size, the perfection of it all. “Damn,” he muttered appreciatively, running a palm down his chest, tracing the deep grooves of his abs until his fingers hooked beneath the waistband of his cutoffs.

He tugged it forward, glanced down, and let out a long whistle. “Oh yeah,” he said with a satisfied nod. “They got that part right.”

“Alright,” he said. “Which one of you babes is responsible for this masterpiece?” He flexed, making Kristie’s eyes dart to his biceps, then to Erin, then back to him again, torn between being terrified of what happened, and impressed with his physique.

Erin’s mouth finally remembered how to work. “Who- who are you? How did you-”

Kristie edged behind Erin, holding up her phone to take several quick pictures of him. “Wait, are you security? Because we can explain- well, maybe not all of it, but most of it… or none of it, but it’s not our fault!”

Chet cut her off with a deep, swaggering laugh. “Security? Sweetheart, does this look like campus security to you?” He gestured down at himself, as if the sleeveless shirt and shorts explained everything.

Erin shook her head, squinting at him. “You’re not- No. No, this can’t be. You’re-” She leaned closer, narrowing her eyes as she took in the feathered blond hair and those too-perfect, almost plastic abs. “Are you… the guy we just made?”

Chet beamed, tapping a finger to his own chest. “Chet. And I’m here to make your lives better. You know, for a couple of geniuses, you two have some pretty screwed up priorities. Especially you,” he said looking at Kristie. “What goes on in your head, isn’t normal.”

Kristie recovered enough to laugh, nervously. “You’re telling me you… you’re the simulation? From in there?” She pointed vaguely at the row of humming servers and, by extension, the now-dead 3D printer.

Erin shook her head. “Wait, but- why do you look like that? We… we put in modern stuff. Why are you-” She waved a hand at his shorts, the shirt, the hair.

Chet shrugged. “This isn’t the first time someone’s tried to build perfection, you know. Of course, last time it wasn’t me, but, hey, guess it’s my lucky night.” He flashed a wink that came across as sleazy to Erin, and charming to Kristie.

Chet looked down at himself, then back up, unbothered. “And since you apparently left some stuff out, it just used the original defaults. Little bit of this, little bit of that. You ever hear of legacy code? Lot of surprises in those early builds, I understand.” He flexed again, obsessed with his own muscles.

Kristie was still fighting to keep a straight face, eyeing him up and down. “What’s ‘it’? And is that why you look like you should be hosting an infomercial for protein powder?”

Chet grinned. “It! You know… it,” he exclaimed waving at the computers. “Whatever makes all of this possible. And for how I look, it’s either that, or your brains went heavy on ‘confident,’ ‘muscular,’ and ‘knows how to party.’ Looks like you got what you wished for, honey.”

Erin opened her mouth trying to figure out what to say, then closed it while her brain tried to make sense of everything, before eventually trying again. “But… you’re not… you can’t actually be real. Are you… are you, like, AI? Or a robot? Or… a prank?”

Chet glanced at the 3D printer, then flexed his hand, studying it like it was something freshly unboxed. “You know,” he said, rolling his shoulders, “last time somebody tried to build a person, it was my little brother and his toothpick of a friend. Point is, they ended up with Lisa.”

He grinned, looking nostalgic and a little wary. “She was a total ten, but man, you do not wanna piss her off. I did, one too many times, and when turning me into a massive pile of shit didn’t work, she zapped me into some kind of weird quantum space. Total void. Been floating around in the afterlife ever since, until you two dragged me back out.”

He looked between them, throwing out his big toothy grin once more. “So congrats, ladies. You just resurrected Chet 2.0.”

Kristie raised an eyebrow. “Wait, so that’s what you meant by not being the first time.”

Chet just winked, then reached down and picked up the slip of paper from the floor, reading it aloud: “Simulation complete. Entity: Chet.” He tucked it into the waistband of his shorts, totally deadpan.

Erin was staring now, trying to piece everything together. “Okay, so if you’re supposed to help us, why do you look like… like-”

Kristie cut in. “Like a cross between a lifeguard, a pro wrestler, and the villain in a Karate Kid sequel?”

Chet’s smile didn’t falter. “Sweetheart, you gave me confidence, muscles, and a sense of style. You left the errors and the rest up to the defaults. I am the defaults.” He winked again. “And trust me, these don’t go out of style, they just become retro.”

Erin gave Kristie a sideways look, the reality finally dawning. “This… is insane.”

Kristie, shook her head, finally let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah, but it’s insanely awesome.”

Chet clapped his hands, grinning wider. “So, what’s first sweethearts? You want me to help you with parties, social lives, fashion advice, or just flex in the window until the football team gets jealous?”

Erin muttered, “I think I’m going to pass out.”

Kristie, suddenly deciding to not fight the ridiculousness of everything, grinned back at Chet. “Actually… I can think of several things we could do.”

Chet flashed both of them a smile bright enough to light up the lab. “Ladies, you just made the best decision of your lives.”

The silence seemed to go on when neither of them knew how to respond, until Erin rounded on Kristie. When she finally spoke, her voice had definitely gone up a pitch. “Okay, no. Absolutely not. We can’t just… keep him.”

Kristie crossed her arms. “Oh, and what do you want to do, see if he’s got an off switch hidden somewhere? Is there an ‘undo’ button for creating a living, breathing-” She waved at Chet, who was now preening in the lab’s only reflective window, checking his hair. “-whatever this is?”

Erin’s eyes went wide. “Alright, fine! You’re right, we have to do something! He can’t just walk around campus looking like…” She gestured helplessly at the shorts, the cigar on the window sill, the hair. “He’ll get us expelled. Or arrested. Or… both!”

Kristie scoffed. “So what do we do? Obviously leaving him here isn’t an option. He’s your digital Frankenstein, not mine, so let’s hear it.”

“My digital- Kristie, you’re the one who started this whole thing, then cranked it up to eleven!” Erin hissed.

Chet finally spoke up, looking between them like he was watching a tennis match. “Look, while you two sort out who’s responsible for what, could we maybe discuss a shower? You have no idea what it feels like to be a person again. I’ve got about twenty years of storage dust, 3D printer shit, and the faint scent of regret, all in my hair.”

Kristie turned back to Erin, looking like she was all business. “Fine. So we go back to your place.”

Erin looked like she was physically in pain. “Mine? Are you insane? My parents would lose it if they walked in and saw-” She looked at Chet, who just posed in response. “-this… in the kitchen.”

Kristie rolled her eyes. “Aren’t they out of town for another week? It’s the perfect place.”

Erin’s voice dropped to a sharp whisper. “My sister’s still there. And if you think for one second she wouldn’t immediately text them that I brought home some rando, you have never met Emma. Which you most certainly have.”

Kristie shrugged. “We can handle Emma.”

“No, we can’t!” Erin shot back. “She’s basically the NSA in a training bra.”

Chet was clearly bored of waiting, and clapped his hands, getting their attention as he stepped between them. “Alright, girls, ladies, honey- it’s settled. Let’s go. You can sort out the boring girl blame shit later.”

He threw an arm around each of their shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Lead the way, beautiful,” he said, looking down at Erin.

Kristie snorted. “Wow. He’s certainly got the confidence thing down. I’ll give him that.”

Erin just groaned, letting herself be steered toward the exit. “This is a disaster.”

Chet pulled her tighter against him. “Nah. This is a party waiting to happen.”

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