A Brain Machined

Ian worked 87 hour shifts 7 times a month at the factory. he was allowed; 3 lunch breaks, 2 dinner breaks, 1 breakfast break, and no sleep breaks. He did get as many bathroom breaks as he wanted, as according to state law. His job was to randomly press one of 6 buttons followed by typing a random word into the engraver. The words where often made up and always misspelled.
To relieve work pressure Ian would take as many bathroom breaks as his wrists could handle. He would pound away at himself endlessly so that by the end of the shift his workstation would take on a sticky musky atmosphere. His workstation would become like a womb cradling him in his autonomy. It was during a pressure relieving session that the problem began. He found blood in his semen. It was only a small drop but it was enough to cause alarm. Ian knew if he were to become infertile he would immediately be re-purposed into a food like substance. The shift ended at 3:15AM and Ian walked straight to the public medical clinic. Ian sat nervous and did not sleep the entire long wait to be examined. Not only was he too stressed out but he hadn't relieved any pressure for a good 6 hours.
The doctor was a series of plastic robot arms, an array of sensors, and a computer terminal which Ian would type responses into. The robot arms were programed to be comforting and gentle. The arms could examine you and put you at ease in the kind of way you would normally have to pay for. The sensors were not so loving unless you are in to that kind of thing. The diagnostic tests on Ian's testicles were incredibly unpleasant. The worst test being similar to a sex act Mistress Mindy would do using stiletto heels and barbed wire. After a minute of processing the test result and treatment diagnosis were displayed across the screen and printed out on a small receipt. "Defective Brain: Replace Mechanically."
"Fuck You!!!"Ian screamed at the computer. "try again. try the MRI again I'm sure it's just a malignant tumor. Or an infection. I'm a slut. I'm a dirty slut. Your tests are wrong..."
A large nurse with the typical 300 pounds of solid muscle walked up to the room and inquired from the viewing portal.
"Is there a problem?."
"No," Ian replied softly."NO, I mean yes. uhhh, the computer is wrong. It says, defective brain, it didn't scan my brain. something is wrong with it."
"The computer is not wrong. Are you going to cooperate?", the nurse stared looking somewhat bored.
"Fuck You Nuhrrrss..."and then the soft hiss of gas is all that could be heard in the room.
The nurse waited one minute and then walked into the room. He was supposed to wait longer but the smell of Halothane is very pleasant. In fact it was one of the few pleasant things about his job. Which is good because the following part of his job was very unpleasant.
The nurse grabbed Ian by the foot and dragged his semi conscious body to the corrections department of the clinic. There the nurse placed a clamp around Ian's ankle and hoisted him upside down on to the rack. Legally the nurse had to stay to observe the procedure, but instead he sighed and walked outside for a cigarette.
Ian hung there thinking about what was going to happen. He'd seen others who'd had it done to them. They walked and talked like normal people but when you looked in their eyes there was nothing there. It was if someone had polished the inside of their pupils. During the procedure the inside of the skull does receive a slight polish.
You know the saying,"we only use 10% of our brain," well that is bull shit. Instead research in to Mnemonic devices had created a finely machined object that could replace about 90% of your brain mass and make it work about 4 times better. The side effect of all this is that the recipient of the artificial brain transplant becomes incredibly boring.
The last thought to enter Ian's brain was,"Ice cream?" as a metal apparatus simultaneously cracked open his skull and scooped out the 90% unwanted brain mass.
Ian was given 2 weeks paid medical leave. He returned to work without complaint. His bathroom breaks were significantly reduced and his work station retained a sterile empty smell. Ian did continue his work stress relieving activity but he only did it at home once a month using his designated stress relief viewing material, and he always deposited the results in the correct government storage container.