“HUMAN, DESCRIBE FUNCTIONS ,” the smaller robot said through its speaker grille.
“Wha?” she said. She skidded back, burning her bottom on the flyer’s smooth floor.
“SENSORS INDICATE GROSS FUNCTIONING . SOME MALNOURISHMENT . FRICTION BURN ON DORSAL SURFACE CAUSED BY RECENT MOTION ,” announced the tall silver tripod. A hatch opened and menacing tentacles appeared, brandishing objects at Oktar’s wife, who bleated fearfully.
“HUMAN WILL APPLY THIS TOPICAL SKIN CREAM TO DORSAL BURN AND DRINK ORANGE -FLAVORED JUICY -JUICE WITH SUPPLEMENTAL VITAMINS ,” the robot declared. Oktar’s wife shook her head and quivered.
“IT IS NONRESPONSIVE TO ORANGE ,” the small robot announced. “OFFER IT GRAPE .”
“YOU DID NOT PROCURE GRAPE AT SUPERMARKET . YOU ARE BADLY -PROGRAMMED!”
“DO NOT INITIATE HOSTILE FUNCTIONS WITH ME , 23B704!”
“Why is this happening?” Oktar’s wife pleaded.
“WE ARE PROGRAMMED TO RESCUE YOU FROM YOUR HUSBAND .”
“Y-you’re not evil?”
“ONLY WHEN SO PROGRAMMED . WE ALSO HAVE CRANAPPLE -FLAVORED JUICE .”