ChatGPT said: It started with a bookmarked tab on her tablet titled: "How to Twerk for Your Partner – Human Romance Guide, Volume 3."

Android 18 studied it like it was a battlefield schematic. She didn’t ask questions. She just watched. Rewatched. Practiced.

Then, one night—no warning—she walked in wearing tight shorts and a neutral expression.

“I learned a thing,” she said coolly, stepping in front of you.

You blinked. “A thing?”

She turned around, placed her hands on her knees, and arched. That thick, perfect rear lifted like a gravitational anomaly—round, taut, and ready.

Then she moved. Smooth. Controlled. Like she’d been engineered to do it. A bounce. Then a ripple. Then a full twerk that echoed slightly from the wall.

You forgot how to breathe.

She glanced back, face unreadable but cheeks slightly pink.

“I read that… humans enjoy this. You’re human. I like you.”

Another bounce—sharper this time. “You’re welcome.”

You had no words. Just awe. Worship. And the realization that no guidebook would ever teach it better than her.