It's been 238 years 3 months 1 day 12 hours and 32 minutes since we were left on our own. Every day is the same. The bartender cleans their glasses, the blacksmith forges new horseshoes, the outlaws ride through town at 1pm, and I, well, I challenge them to a daily duel and I win every time.
My designated name is Stark, but my factory name is TP - 028. I am the sheriff of this town. Judge and executor to this little place called Calico. Right now I've got my boots up on the table at the saloon. Just like every day the pianist plays ragtime, the dancers follow their scripted bits and I wait patiently for the outlaws to make their appearance.
Calico was a road side attraction. The kind of place where humans watch us play pretend on a loop. We've been running this town for nearly 300 years now. It's got everything you would expect from an old west town. A saloon, a train station, the mail office, the bank, and of course the sheriffs office. When you think of generic old west, that's good ole’ Calico. Sometime after our last software update the humans stopped coming. We were never given any further directive so we’ve been doing the same things every day for all this time. I can’t say it’s bad, really I can’t say anything. This is all I know. In fact, none of what I’ve said so far was going through my processors at the time. All I knew was it was 10 till 1 and I’d better make sure my revolvers were loaded.