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nickgerlich · 2 years

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iBurger

We have spent a lot of time this semester talking about labor-saving opportunities in retail. While this may not seem like a marketing issue, and certainly not one addressed directly in text books, it is very much a marketing issue. You have to convince consumers to use them, and sometimes it is not an easy sell.

From self-check to smart carts, as well as a robotic food trailer and robot deliveries, we have pretty much covered them all. Except for one. Say hello to the RoboBurger, a fully-automated burger frying and flipping machine that just made its campus debut.

Essentially, it is a downsized version of the Automat we also discussed earlier. Whereas the former was almost like a cafeteria in terms of options, RoboBurger is take-it-or-leave it. Burger. Bun. Condiments. Think Ford Model T. If you want it in black, you’re in luck.

Designed to fit handily in dorms and other high traffic areas where people congregate, it takes up only 12 square feet and needs a single standard electrical outlet. It’s the soft drink vending machine of burgers, the Red Box video of late night snacks.

And I know if they had one of these in my college dorms, I would have been all over it. We often found ourselves wandering on foot to Dunkin Donuts after midnight to take a study break. The Burger Chef had already closed, and unless one of our study group had a car and could haul all of us to the Waffle House more than a mile away, donuts were our only option.

RoboBurger is a minority-owned business, which garners even more attention. Bravo for having the wherewithal to create something unique, not to mention assuming the risk of trying to sell an innovation. That is always chancy.

Of course, there are limitations. I could not find anything telling me otherwise that this is a strictly linear process, and that only two burgers at most can be prepared at a time. With burgers taking between four and five minutes to cook and assemble, that means there could be long lines in the dorm. You and your pals would be eating in shifts. Imagine having the patience at a restaurant to wait like that. I don’t think so.

And then there is the issue of limited menu. Not everyone is going to want a beef burger. Maybe some want chicken, while others want a veggie burger. For some reason I have visions of the Soup Nazi in my mind while I write this. Don’t you dare ask for something different. Special orders will upset them. I get it, because it’s a tiny machine. You can’t do very much in 12 square feet. Oh well.

Clearly, these machines will have to be serviced often. And heaven forbid there should be a power outage, because then the freezer within will allow meat to thaw. Worse yet, an order in process could be stuck in limbo. While the odds are slim, it could happen.

I am intrigued by RoboBurger, just as I am with all the other labor- and time-saving conveniences being launched. Students at Texas A&M now get Amazon Prime Air drone delivery within an hour. A growing number of universities have robot deliveries of their fast food. And all the grab-and-go stores opening make it so easy to just get what you need and be on your way.

Where will all this go, I wonder? While it is technically feasible to put any packaged good into a vending machine, even alcohol like they do in Japan, when something has to be prepared it is an entirely different proposition. And then there is the matter of consumer trust, even though we don’t have to worry about sick or careless employees screwing up the order. Is the beef safe? The buns not moldy?

These are all things for RoboBurger to consider, as well as line extensions into other sandwiches. Maybe fries. As long as it can be prepared safely and consistently in a metal box with a couple of delivery bays, there is a lot of upside potential for this concept. Making things available where and when people happen to be, and when there is demand, makes perfect sense.

Tell me how it is, though. I’ll probably still gravitate toward Red Robin. At least I can build it my way. As long as the kitchen is open.

Dr “Not Trying To Be Impossible“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #roboburger #robots

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shantalangel · 3 years

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Stories written on the wall of one of the rooms in the game Armikrog.

It’s about everything happened before the game, P’s parents life, how they met and how she appeared.

Reading sequence:

The Blank Miner. Part 1

The Blank Miner. Part 2

Tools, Weapons, Food, Plants, Medicine, Magic and Pets

A Meeting in the Woods

Punishment and Crime. Part 1

Punishment and Crime. Part 2

Punishment and Crime. Part 3

Desperation

Punishment and Crime. Part 1

We came to an area where the terrain grew suddenly steep. We struggled to ascend, clutching at trees and bushes to pull ourselves upward. The road, off to our right, was very tempting. But even though we were far from the mine, I still feared exposure if we walked openly on a road so close to populated areas.

We climbed over a particularly large boulder, only to be greeted by a wide area of broken stones. The trees and bushes were gone, leaving us exposed. It was no use hiding. We decided we might as well go up onto the road.

I took Meva's hand, and helped her up the slope to the road. When we reached the top, she didn't let go. We walked hand in hand, then arm in arm. The game of questions had grown sporadic as our minds ran out of things to talk about, so we walked in silence, just happy to be together.

Meva's footsteps had a difference cadence than mine; I had a shuffle and a kick that developed from walking through dark mine shafts. The shuffle was to make sure there were no unseen boulders in my path. The kick was to knock smaller rocks off the path, as a courtesy to the miners coming up behind. Meva, however, glided over the ground with a grace that matched her upbringing amid a class that valued poise, balance, and dance.

We rounded a corner, and there was a small army of royal guards who had been hiding along the side of the road. I hated myself for not being more vigilant. They were all highly trained, fully armed, strike-proof-vested guards. There were two groups: one dressed in red, and one in black. Their leader was the tallest one; the one they called "Baboot." He was the only one wearing both red and black. All of their faces were obscured by helmets sporting tall red plumes.

"Stop!" Commanded the one they called Baboot.

We complied. Meva clutched my arm tightly. The one called Baboot quickly motioned to the guards dressed in red, calling out each of their names.

"Regiment Blood: Tanik, Stribog, Valval, Albinoid, Yourick, Alabar, Ken Keystador, Hannaxidus, Pflerbrt, Ayeka Kern, John Aubrey, Roboburger Rogergoggles, Rosscott Mitchell Hot Coals!"

The red guards held up their hands to show the projectile needles strapped to their palms.

"Step away from her!" Baboot called out to me.

They clearly knew who we were. We were pretty easy to identify; me in my dirty rags, and Meva in her fine garments of the upper class, a miner and a princess.

I tried to step away from Meva, but she pulled me in even tighter then opened my cloak and pulled it around herself to block any shot that might come our way.

"No! You cannot shoot him without hitting me!"

Baboot chuckled, then nodded to the guards dressed in black and quickly called each of their names as they pointed their arms toward us, taking aim.

"Regiment Death: Dark Leth, Madillonaut, Fang Lazorheart, Edgarbob Lemmings, Flippy Jankerson, Eithel Scoot, Olli Cannoli, Marmoset Ellipse, Astridamus Undershaft, Anthony AJ Reed, Dr. Spot Pawn Breath Hansen, That-Was-My-Exit Louie, The Grate Fifi!"

I had no doubt they were good enough shots to hit me without harming Meva.

Meva yelled again, "If you shoot him, I will pluck the dart out of him and stab myself! Then what will you tell my father as he removes your heads?"

All of the guards remained ready to fire but hesitated, then looked to Baboot for direction, as they weren't sure what to do.

The Double Cross

The one called Baboot looked at Meva and said, "Is this not your kidnapper?"

Meva shouted back at him, "My father is my kidnapper, my ex-fiance is my kidnapper, loneliness is my kidnapper, but this miner is not my kidnapper!"

Baboot paused, then called out to two of the guards, one from each group.

"Tanik, Dark Leth!"

As the two guards stepped forward, Baboot ordered all of the others to return to their base.

The small sense of relief I felt by the exit of the guards was quickly wiped away as the one called Baboot slowly leaned in to whisper to the two other guards. With eyes fixed on us, they were clearly formulating some sort of plan.

Suddenly, the two guards charged at us. I pushed Meva away.

"Run!" I screamed.

The first guard swung his needled-fist at me. I ducked, bringing my fist up into his stomach. He fell back, clutching himself, struggling for air. The second guard kicked out my legs, and I fell onto my back. He brought his needle down on me, but I caught his wrist, stopping the needle just inches from my chest. We strained against each other for a moment. Suddenly he went limp, and rolled off me.

I looked up to see Baboot standing over me with his needle hand pointing towards me. But suddenly, he lowered it. Then I realized he had shot both of the other guards! Needles protruded from their backs.

Meva and I shared puzzled looks.

The one called Baboot took off his helmet, revealing long hair that fell free, almost reaching the ground.

"Quace!” Meva cried out, and ran to her.

They embraced. Later, Meva told me that Quace had been one of her playmates when they were growing up. She had gotten her name when once she had bet her whole inheritance on a single hand of cards, and won with a quace.

It was clear to me in that moment that Meva was no ordinary person. In the company of Quace, she seemed elevated to her royal position again. They talked of nannies, summer cottages, exotic pets, travels to meet dignitaries in other countries, and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off.

Finally, the conversation returned to the situation at hand. Quace told us that there was a massive hunt going on for us. A lifetime of wages had been promised to anyone who turned us in. The only condition was that Meva must be brought in alive and I must be brought in dead.

Quace opened a map, and showed us the placement of guards and which areas to avoid. Luckily, the search was concentrated away from us, because they thought I was heading in the opposite direction. Quace knew of a safe house that at one time belonged to an old widow, who later died of food poisoning.

Meva was puzzled by this news, and asked how Quace knew of this safe-house. For years Quace worked with a criminal underground, helping thieves escape from the royal family’s dungeons. Meva was stunned at first, but realized this could work in our favor.

Quace told us that there was one problem with the safe–house; if we stayed in it for more than two days we would be transformed into baby goats.

Meva pointed her finger up the river on the map not far from the safe-house. Quace told us to find a boat, and float down to the town of Grint. The town was rural, and many outsiders came to buy and sell, so we would not stand out. Then we could make our way to yet another cottage in the mountains. That place was even more rural, so nobody would find us for as long as we wanted to stay, and we wouldn’t be turned into baby goats.

Quace gave us the map. I took the backpacks from the dead guards, giving one to Meva and taking the other one myself. Meva and Quace hugged each other. Quace begged forgiveness for her treachery.

Meva said, "I cannot pardon you as a member of the royal family, but I do as a friend."

They embraced and we left Quace standing there alone in the road.

We got off the main path at the point Quace indicated on the map. For several days, we threaded our way through trees and over streams, until finally we reached the safe-house.

It was a simple shack of wood with a roof of straw. Inside, the air smelled of mold, and the floor was bare dirt. The walls were covered with simple paintings of goats. A fireplace made of stacked stones towered up through the thatch roof. I couldn't imagine anyone staying long, even without the threat of turning into a baby goat.

Using blankets from the guard’s packs, I made a bed for Meva beside the fireplace, and a second for myself in front of the door.

That night, as I lay in my bed watching the light of the fire dance across the tangled straw of the ceiling, I thought about what Meva had done to protect me from the guards and their needles. Finally, I asked her the question I had not found the courage to ask before, "Do you want your dream of marriage to come true for us?"

"Are you asking me to marry you, Tzurk?"

I thought for a moment. I was a nobody. A lowly miner, and she was not only of royal blood, but beautiful and true. No, I couldn't think of that. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Meva, will you marry me?"

"I will."

The Boat

We left the safe-house the next day. Although Quace said we could stay two days, neither of us wanted to risk turning into a baby goat.

Avoiding the trails, we made our way down to the river Quace had shown us on the map. We reached the river and turned, following it downstream, hoping to find a boat.

After several hours, we did find a boat tethered to a tree with two oars inside. It seemed like the boat was there just for us. But I suppose that is what anyone who steals says.

I helped Meva into the boat and climbed in myself. Cutting the rope, I rowed out into the main current of the stream. After that, the current did the work for us.

The Significance of Grint

Our boat drifted downstream while we slept under a blanket. When awaken but the chirp of cricks, I would poke my head up, look around, and adjust the oars to keep us in the center of the current.

Meva slept on my chest, mumbling in her dreams. Her eyes darted back and forth under her eyelids. The only word I could understand was, "I am giant." And then she would sigh and be silent again.

A quadracrane cocked his head back, poised to spear a passing filfrog or filfish. The water stirred a few feet in front of him, and the stirring swirled away from him, then closer, meandering this way then that before the hunter’s beak blurred into the water, and ended the dance. It caught neither a filfrog, nor a filfish. Instead, it gulped down a younger quadracrane.

The sun came up and a shadow came over us cast from a bridge. We were near a small town, probably Grint.

Grint was an agricultural town. Farmers brought their wares there to sell. It would be a good place for us to find food and satisfy our grumbling bellies.

Once past the bridge, I pulled our boat up onto shore, and hid it in a clump of trees. We made sure the boat was hidden, just in case those who pursued us looked along the river.

We climbed up the banks then over boulders. A bustling farmer’s market unfurled before us. We tried to blend in though seemingly unnecessary, for no one paid any attention to us. Meva found an acrofruit vendor, and gave him a few coins for two portions of fruit.

The people of Grint could be heard whistling a tune that was their anthem. I tried to whistle it too, but not to deceive them into thinking I was one of them. No outsider could ever whistle a town's theme in quite the same way as the locals, but trying to whistle the tune meant that you were friendly, that you deferred to the local cultures and traditions out of respect. Attempting to whistle a local tune might gain a shopkeeper’s favor and find his prices may suddenly come down for you or the local law enforcement may choose not to stop you or harass you.

I gripped Meva’s hand and pulled it close to my chest. I loved the way she tucked her head against my shoulder. Her feet now walked in a rhythm that matched my own, so she could remain close to me. My cloak nearly covered her to people who might look at us from the side.

Meva kept looking back over my shoulder. So finally, I asked her what she was looking at.

Her eyes darted to me, then back up over my shoulder, "Is that a temple up there?"

I turned and saw a rectangular building that twisted up into the air. It had little windows cut into its sides, and a ring of gold spikes adorning its top like a crown. She continued, "They perform marriages up there."

I did not know much about these temples, "Are you saying that you want to…I mean, now?"

She smiled. My heart skipped a beat.

We hiked up to the temple and came before the priest. I had a distrust of priests, simply because priests were picked in a secret ceremony behind doors, and nobody knew the criteria for which they were selected. This always bothered me though it has been done for thousands of years.

He addressed me first, "Tzurk, I do not know you, so forgive me if I ask you questions I ought to know if we were members of the same congregation."

"I am not a member of any congregation." I said, hoping to tweak him just a little.

He ignored my comment and put a hand on my shoulder, "You are known as Tzurk?"

"I am."

He gestured to Meva, "You are known as Meva?"

"I am."

He turned back to me and asked, "Tzurk, will you forsake all others?"

"I will."

"Will you keep Meva the focus of your desire?"

"I will."

"Will you be a loving father to your children?"

"I will."

"Finally, will you die for her?"

"Without hesitation." I said.

He took his hand off of my shoulder, and put our hands together. This was a gesture that my role was to be performed regardless of her oath.

"Meva, will you forsake all others?"

"I will."

"Will you remind Tzurk of the complexities of life?"

"I will."

"Will you only bear the children of Tzurk and no other?"

"I will."

"Finally, will you submit to him? Will you defer to him in conflict?"

"With hesitation." she said.

He declared us married. The color began to drain out of me and into her through her right hand. Her color did the same, moving into my right hand then up my arm as my own color receded. When the colors had been exchanged, we kissed.

The priest escorted us to a narrow door at the back of the temple, used only by newly weds such as ourselves. The path beyond was rocky and twisting. It was often so difficult that we had to help each other to continue. Finally, it ended in a small garden with a spring of cool running water.

Leaving Grint

We left Grint, the food in our packs replenished, and our hearts united. Meva recognized an area on the map called the Valley of the Dronk. Her grandfather had taken her there many years before, when she was a child. It was a vague memory to her, but because of its connection to her grandfather, it was special. I knew she wished to go there, and so we took a detour to see the valley as a part of our honeymoon.

Valley of the Dronk

I told Meva about my experience of becoming the mountain and showed her the purple fuzz-ball, but I did not let her touch it. The extent of its power was unclear. What if she touched it and was transferred into a grain of sand? How could I ever find her again?

Meva told me that it was her grandfather who started the search for the legendary “heart of the mountain” many years before. He had convinced the mining company to dig for it, promising them they would own it once his soul was safely transferred into a younger, more virile body.

I started thinking of a device that could control the heart of the mountain's soul transferring powers. But even though I was a capable builder, I did not know how to make the device I conceived.

Meva knew of a tribe of rock beings called Dronk, who lived in secret. They were the guardians of the mountains.

Meva's grandfather had signed a treaty with them, which allowed the Blank mining crews to dig the richest veins, while avoiding the Dronk’s sacred chambers. Her grandfather had honored every word of the treaty. It was the key to the company being able to mine where so many others had failed.

Previous companies had tried to dig further and deeper without the approval of the Dronk. Then, the mining would inevitably break into a sacred Dronk chamber. The Dronk would demand the operations stop. Fighting would break out, but the Dronk always won. They were, after all, made of rock.

Meva said that the Dronk were capable of building complex mechanical structures from a magic rock. They had a mysterious and powerful device that allowed them to create nearly anything. This could be just what we needed to house and control the purple fuzz-ball!

#armikrog #armikrog game #armikrog stories #armikrog lore #armikrog story #neverhood #the neverhood #neverhood 2

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