A Side of Beef

I thought being a robot would put me on easy street. Boy, was I wrong. At first I thought it would be all razing Japanese cities and eating humans and chugging hydraulic fluid. Then all these people wanted me to do stuff for them. They were like, "Phoebe, can you use your awesome robot strength to open this pickle jar?" And I was all like, "Okay."

After a while, everyone was always trying to get me to open up my metal fuse box just so they could see inside. And at parties some toolbag would spill beer all over my control box just to see what would happen. It totally crossed the line.

I mean, they wouldn't let me eat anybody without feeling or guilt. Come on, I'm a robot! That's what I do, that's totally my thing. It's like they don't even want me to succeed.

Sure, it's all well and good when I need to use my radical super laser beams to defend the free world against a super axis of no-good. But then I eat one baby and it's like they don't even know me. I hate them. They are so mean.

If they ever have babies, I am totally going to eat one.