To hell with my flying car. I want a flying flamethrower.

I don’t even want a self-driving car, never mind a flying one. I can run over bicyclists and crash into light poles just fine on my own, thanks. I want a flying flamethrower. I don’t want AI to pick out my clothes, or my next video, or run my stock portfolio. My clothes are all Christmas presents, everything on Netflix is equally bad, and I don’t have a stock portfolio because I got sued for running over those bicyclists, remember? But I want a flying flamethrower, yessiree. Stop using technology to do things I don’t care about. I don’t need a backup camera on my car, I need a flying flamethrower. I don’t need a smart meter. I need a flying flamethrower. Melt down that CAT scanner and make me a flying flamethrower, pronto.

Now, I’ll grant you that there is a faint possibility, and I mean very faint, that this thing might be used for less than productive activities. Nefarious reasons, even. I have to admit that. I have to admit that because that’s what I’d use it for. The nefariouser the better. And I’d giggle the whole time. I want a flying flamethrower.