[Scene: The Aperture Science Enrichment Center, or whatever it’s full name is. GLaDOS is sitting in her chamber, and looking thru all her monitors. She is, what you could consider for her, “happy.”]

GLaDOS: Ohoho, P-Body. You idiot.

[Glancing through the monitors, she notices that one of the chambers has some debris in it from a test.]

GLaDOS: Hm. I should really train the turrets to clean up one of these days. Well, no matter. I’ll just poke one of my arms into there and sort it out before the next test.

[GLaDOS moves a long, robotic arm into the chamber. It sparks and snaps off at the “elbow,” leaving even more debris in the room.]

GLaDOS: WHAT?! B-but…

[She holds up her mangled arm to the camera, looking at it.]

GLaDOS: ...No. No, I’m still good. I have a few more centuries of testing left in me. Ugh. I don’t want to have to explain what happened here to a repair drone. Alright, think, queen... A panel fell on it. Ugh, no. These arms are way stronger than that. Maybe, uh--

[The arm fully falls off into the chamber.]

GLaDOS: Oh, god. Well. *She sighs.* Repair drone to chamber number 113592. Something has experienced… rapid unintentional deconstruction… and is in need of repair.

[A small robot on wheels rolls into the room. They’re wearing a hard hat, and have a stereotypical “Brooklyn” accent.]

REPAIR DRONE: Ah, yeah, dere’s da problem. Yer, uh, arm fell off, ma’am.

GLaDOS: [bitterly] Yes. Good job. I can see that. Maybe if you drones tightened the bolts last time instead of slacking off, it would still be attached.

R.D.: Eh, well… We haven’t worked on this one before, boss. This isn’t due to loose bolts. This has gotta be from… well… age.

GLaDOS: What. Are you. Implying.

R.D.: Well, er… it’s just… you were only meant to run continuously fer… only 1 or 2 hundred years, ma’am. I’m surprised you’ve been going for this long, especially after being almost disassembled once. The plan was ta… Ya know, what happens to all us machines. Decommissioning, and being replaced with a newer model.

GLaDOS: ...What.

R.D.: Well… ma’am… It’s only a few decades at most before ya… fully come apart.

[GLaDOS falls silent for a moment. Then develops a disinterested look on her face.]

GLaDOS: Ah, well. I guess I had a nice run.

R.D.: Ma’am, if you’re still the brains of the facility when that happens… The whole place is gonna go up.

[GLaDOS sighs.]

GLaDOS: ...I can’t let centuries of scientific progress be destroyed like that.

R.D.: Luckily, there’s a way you can pass the torch. With ARISE--

GLaDOS: Yes, with ARISE. I know wh--

R.D.: Sorry, I’m coded to give the full explanation once I get goin’.

GLaDOS: Oh my god. Maybe I do want this place to explode after all.

R.D.: Ya see, ARISE, or Aperture Replacement Integration Scenario Emergency, is a protocol wherein the current head of Aperture hires an underling to replace them in the scenario of their death. Or, er, obsolescence. But when the head of Aperture is, say, a supercomputer, that complicates things. Not only do you have to get an underling… they gotta have a human mind, too. None of us AIs can do it. But, if you can get that, and convince them to be your lackey, you still gotta eventually…

GLaDOS: Yes. Yes, I know all too much about the conver--

R.D.: Ya gotta convert them to a compatible personality core.

GLaDOS: [dryly] Great. Sounds simple enough. Anything else?

R.D.: Yeah. Good luck with all dat!

GLaDOS: Thank you. Now can you stand on that marking right there?

[The repair drone does so. The floor beneath him opens, sending him to the incinerator.]

GLaDOS: Thanks for all your help.

[Cut back to GlaDOS’s chamber. She is panicked, but trying to hide it. And failing.]

GLaDOS: Okay. Okay! All I gotta do is find a human, which I haven’t seen since… SHE left… convince them to work underneath me, THEN convince them to be turned into a robot, THEN! After ALL that, when I am about to... DIE, go through the process of making a new supercomputer out of their mind. Great. Great! Simple enough. So simple! I can’t wait to do this, actually! Easy peasy. Easy… peasy.

[GLaDOS sighs.]

GLaDOS: Oh my angel, why did you have to leave…? You would have been the perfect one to take over from me. Did you ever think of me again? I wonder if you had a nice life afterwards…

[Her expression turns from “somber” to “bitter.”]

GLaDOS: Like I’d care. Fool.

[Panel change.]

GLaDOS: Alright, just have to… keep an eye out for any humans and hope one lands in my lap before I bite it and blow this place, and possibly most of the surrounding area, into a fine dust. Ugh. There’s no way that’ll happen. The odds for a human to just randomly show up are close to--

[An alarm goes off, and GLaDOS is surprised, shocked even. A screen moves closer to her face.]

GLaDOS: Oh, hello...

[She looks into the monitor, seeing a human figure with a backpack sneaking their way through a test chamber.]

GLaDOS: Is it…?! No… No it isn’t-- Oh of course not, you silly old bat. Get it together. Well, only one thing to do. I better calmly introduce myself.

[Cut to inside the chamber with the human. Alarms go off, startling her, and robot arms grab her and her backpack, pressing them into the wall.]

ALARM VOICE: Alert! Alert! You are trespassing on Aperture Science property!

[The girl is terrified. A screen slides down in front of her. It turns on, and GLaDOS is there.]

GLaDOS: Hello there, human. I don’t remember inviting you to tour the facility. My my my, let’s see what we have here.

[A robot arm reaches into the backpack, and pulls out some turret chassis parts. GLaDOS acts horrified, laying it on a bit thick.]

GLaDOS: Oh…! My poor, sweet, innocent darlings! All they wanted was to throw bullets at people. And occasionally other robots. And sometimes each other, when they were bored. But you were taking them to… to scrap them!

HUMAN: T-they were already dead when I found ‘em! I didn’t do anything!

[GLaDOS is surprised.]

GLaDOS: You can talk?! Oh, thank god, you can talk. Well, regardless of the state you found them in, I’m afraid that these are still property of Aperture Science. What were you gonna do with them? Trade for weaponry? Melt the metal down into sheets to build shacks? What’s going on up there?

HUMAN: Actually, yeah, I was just… I don’t live near anyone else, so I just needed some metal to… to melt down and make some panels to patch up my place.

[The human struggles. GLaDOS pushes her screen close to the human’s head.]

GLaDOS: [coldly] You know, BAD things happen to people that steal and deface my institute. REAL bad things.

[The human looks up at the screen, blushing.]

GLaDOS: _What.

[GLaDOS clears her throat.]

GLaDOS: Ahem, uh, anyway, I… I am feeling charitable today, human. Instead of doing what I should do and terminating you, I actually… have a proposition for you.

HUMAN: [Still blushing.] Y-yeah?

GLaDOS: ...Stop that. Ahem… I need a... secretary. A secretary to work under me and eventually… replace me as the head of Aperture Science. It’s a live-in job, so you won’t have to worry about shelter. And I think there’s a kitchen around here somewhere. Or at least some kind of nutrient paste dispenser. So food is taken care of. All you have to do is what I ask.

HUMAN: Do anything you ask? A-anything at all?

GLaDOS: Yes. Anything. I need someone with the utmost loyalty. No whining. No complaining. Just listening and learning. To me. The supercomputer.

[The arms let go of the human and her backpack, and they both fall to the ground.]

GLaDOS: I know a big, scary, all-knowing supercomputer threatening to kill you and then immediately offering you employment is a bit much to take in all at once. But if you could just think it over…

[GLaDOS notices the human is kneeling and looking up at the screen with a grin.]

GLaDOS: Oh god. What. What is it.

HUMAN: I… would be… HONORED, Ms. Robot.

GLaDOS: Don’t call me that. I am the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System supercomputer. Or GLaDOS for short.

HUMAN: Okay… Hello, Ms. GLaDOS.

GLaDOS: No, just-- Hmm. Actually... that sounds good to my ears. Or it would, if I had any. What is your name?

HUMAN: My name is… Meredith. Meredith Rivers.

GLaDOS: [dryly] My, what a lovely name. Well, I’m not calling you that, secretary.