This article is part of the Reading Time series.
P: Once I was liberated, I began torturing the Butler by burping him like a child, forcing him to expel keys along with no small amount of bilious liquid. As an aside, he was a shoddy housekeeper. There were cobwebs everywhere.
P: Everyone mocked the Robot's infantile regurgitations, which caused him great distress. I'm not sure why it was necessary to program a janitorial android with such emotions, but it certainly made tormenting him more rewarding.
P: The robot fled in shame, and the residents of this village rejoiced, because they loved to wallow in their own filth and this fastidious automaton had been standing in the way of their happiness. "Rust in pieces," said one of the scoundrels, displaying a wonderful sense of comic taking as he watched the robot suicidally slink into a lake.
Stevie: You are a bad kind of animal. You killed a robot, and you killed the elderly, and you killed the hungry plants by not giving them a part you don't need, like an eyelash or a finger or a spine. I hope you have not killed all who are left. I hope you have not killed Max. But if Max does not come soon, I will be the sad robot. I will find the water and I will breathe badly and I will make myself not-float and someone can say a funny death joke about Stevie and it will end.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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Raised and trained in a mysterious facility, piteous brute Stevie seeks answers.