Are you sure you want to invent artificial intelligence?

    In the kitchen, Joe rummaged in his pockets, found a dime, and with his help
    turned on the coffee pot. Inhaling an unusual - for him - aroma, he glanced at his
    watch and found that fifteen minutes had already expired. He went to the door,
    turned the handle and pulled the bolt. The door did not give in.
    “Five cents, please,” she said.

    Joe rummaged through his pockets - nothing. It's empty.
    “I'll pay you tomorrow,” he said to the door. He pulled the handle again, to no avail. “What I pay you is essentially a tip.” I do not have
    to pay you.
    “I have a different opinion,” said the door. - Take a look at the
    contract that you signed when buying this apartment.
    The contract lay in the drawer of the table; Joe has called on him more than once. Yes,
    the fee for opening and closing the door was a mandatory
    fee, not a tip.
    “You see, I'm right,” the door said smugly.
    Joe took a stainless steel knife from a drawer and began to
    unscrew the lock on his door.
    “I will sue you,” said the door when the first bolt fell out.
    “Never in my life has sued the door,” Chip said. “But I think
    I can survive it.”
    There was a knock.
    “Hey Joe, boy, open it, it's me, Ashwood!” I brought her.
    “Drop five cents into the slot,” Joe said. - For my part, this
    mechanism is stuck.
    The coin tinkled, falling, and the door opened. JJ stood on the threshold,
    shining like a diamond.

    Philip K. Dick "Ubik"

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