This piece is a few months old, and I'm not entirely sure why I haven't posted it here. It will dawn on me in a few moments, but until then I'll be in blissful ignorance.
G.G.G.
Marvin sighed a deep robot sigh and shook his head. He was ambivalent towards the weather on this ghastly planet. Zaphod—who still hadn't gotten his other head back—had in a moment of surprising idiocy even for his half-witted male chauvinist head decided that they take a de-tour to "this spicey planet! They might have drinks with umbrellas in them!", and the ship had been damaged in the rather violent crash which followed upon the rather violent display of Zaphod's inability to hit the breaks. They were as such stranded on a planet which seemed to consist of nothing but sand, sand, and sand. The sun was bright and the air stuffy, Marvin imagined what it would feel like to be able to actually feel the effects of this stuffy weather on his body. His circuits were starting to jizz a little, but listening to the complaining of the organic organisms as they trotted away over the sand in the search of an ice-cream parlor he came to the conclusion that they rather envied his robot body's reaction—or rather the lack of it—to the heat. They really had no idea what it was like to be a robot, the pure mental torment of having a mind as great as his, to understand all the miseries and horrors of the world without the emotional software to feel anything but depression.
They knew nothing of the absolute agony of getting sand into the minuscule cracks between his limbs, restricting movements and scraping up the paint-job, just begging for the rust to start eroding him. This day was just like any other, really, the impending doom of the universe one step nearer, the black spare-part market always on the prowl for new victims to pick apart, and the energy supplies in the planets waning. A normal normal day. Marvin sighed, and glanced out over the desert around the ship. He spotted something moving towards him, but it was yet too far away for him to be able to tell what kind of creature it was even with his zoom on. He shook his head, sat down on the ledge of the chute leading into the ship and waited.
A few minutes later he looked up to see a white meter-high robot roll the few remaining paces between them, bleeping merrily.
"Hello there!" the small robot said, "I'm R2D2."
"My condolences," answered Marvin politely, "I'm Marvin."
"You have a strange name." Bleeped R2D2.
"That is because I have an exceptionally large mind, developed so that I can experience emotions." Marvin informed him curtly.
"Oh!" whistled R2D2 excitedly, "Can you tell me what it's like to feel... 'happy'?"
Marvin sighed. "No, I'm afraid not. I am merely a prototype, and I am unable to feel anything beyond depression."
"Hmm..." R2D2 bleeped pensively. "Couldn't we try to reprogram you and put in a code for happiness?"
"I don't know..." stalled Marvin.
"I'm very good at programing. " Insisted R2D2.
"Oh, alright, it can only get worse." Marvin relented.
R2D2 gave a delighted bleep and opened up a flap on his side, letting a little metal arm slide out and open a similar flap right beneath Marvin's arm.
"Hmm..." the robot made a whistling sound, "If I hack into the hard-drive and then revert the—"
"Please," Marvin interjected, "you might be probing around in my mind, but you need not tell me about it."
R2D2 bleeped noncommittally and continued rummaging around in Marvin without further comment.
Marvin sighed again and shook his head, but froze mid-action when he felt the most wondrous feeling flow through him—he felt tingly and... and... happy.
Happiness.
"There," R2D2 bleeped, pleased, withdrawing the metal arm. "How is it?"
Marvin felt something pulling in his mind, something which he guessed was what those organic organisms called a 'smile'. "It's a beautiful feeling."
G.G.G.
..I think this might be as close to robot porn as you get. You are free to kill me now.