A gang of four robots gathered at the bank of a serpentine river. They greeted each other and waited for a signal to start.

A cube torso of the smallest robots, with red number one on its front, swayed lightly on its two legs. A large screen placed instead of eyes checked its friend to the left, while friendlily buzzing.

"A-R-E Y-O-U R-E-A-D-Y?" - The number one asked.

The blue number two turned on its three tube-like legs, all of the eyes that ran all round robot's head lit green. - "98% Affirmative. Estimated odds of winning – 0.026%."

"R-E-Q-U-E-S-T-I-N-G O-P-T-I-M-I-S-M." - The cube robot quickly buzzed out two words and looked farther, at its other two friends.

"Bleep. Bloop." - The single grey eye of a blue mono-wheel contraption flickered brightly as three green diodes below it randomly flashed.

"A-G-R-E-E-D." - The number one replied to its friend with yellow number three, whose polished steel corpus was like the shape of a small and wide rocket.

"Transflux-quantitative sub-redirection – pseudo oscillating pattern." - A strange, black, floating octahedron added as light reflected on a purple plate with number four. The upper part of its torso lifted and below a pyramid was a single orange eye that jumped around, inspecting its opponents in a fierce and warlike manner.

"F-O-U-R. R-E-Q-U-E-S-T-I-N-G C-A-L-M."

"I'll be victorious." - The number four retracted its upper body, hiding his only eye. The robot remained uncompromising in its behavior.

"Bleep?" - The number three tilted its torso askingly, then looked at four.

Shrieks of fury followed the barely recognizable, words fastly glued together by the octahedron. - "Recalibrating scatter-ion weaponry. Running thorough pre-combat evaluation. YOU. SHALL. PERISH."

"Reminder: No weapons allowed." - The number two noted in a calm, calculating, and cold voice, and number four fell silent instantly.

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As the red light turned to yellow, all of the robots turned towards the starting line, focused and quiet.

3

2

1

Green! Go!!!

One and two slowly treaded on a sandy path, while the three and four rushed forward faster than a missile, leaving only a cloud of dust behind them.

"C-O-U-G-H C-O-U-G-H." - Number one complained.

The number two stopped and looked at its little friend. - "Error. Sterilization initiated." - Two metal appendages came out of its torso and cleaned the dust off the small cube.

"T-H-A-N-K-S."

"Note: Executed Basic Machine-Moderating Protocols. Gratitude appreciated but unrequired."

The numbers three and four were running head-to-head, toe-to-toe, they were approaching a small pond in their path very fast.

"You will be annihilated." - The orange eye scouted his blue opponent, then charged a laser and shot in the tree ahead. It fell in front of small rock and blocked the pathway right in front of a lake.

"Non-aerial path obstructed. Surrender." - The octahedron laughed in an evil voice, then turned on its vertical jet engine and slowly started to fly upwards.

"Bleep. Bleep. Bleep!" - The three replied and accelerated.

"NO. DON'T. YOU'LL CRASH INTO WATER!" - The black adversary stopped in fear of his rival.

Monowheel robot drove on the small stone, bouncing wildly, then jumped onto a tree and sped up for the last time.

"BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!"

The tree was just like a ramp, number three jumped over the pond and safely landed on the other side, winning the race.

Staggered by the defeat, the black machine stared numbly in front of it, while number three danced on its single wheel.

"B-E-H-I-N-D Y-O-U!" - Cube robot shouted to the black machine and it regained its senses, then flew to the other side, to take the second place.

In the end, everyone safely reached the goal, although the last two robots took the roundabout route and tied.

"B-R-A-V-O!" - Overjoyed, the number one spoke to the third automaton.

"Analyze complete. Estimated odds of winning next race – 0.041%." - The second machine added.

The fourth robot was silent, so the victorious machine turned in its direction, askingly uttering – "Bloop?"

"Yes. Congratulations." - The black octahedron responded in a sad voice.

"Bleep! Bleep!" - The number three solaced its eternal rival, then asked – "Bloop? ...bloop?"

"Your victories: 24 891 100 197 455 128 642 001. My victories: 24 891 100 197 454 075 981 199. Good game, indeed. Good game."