A week in the life of Service Drone Bob
Entering the gargantuan lounge of the Massive we see several Irkens being Served by table drones.These are regular Irkens without emotions, only born to serve. But then we happen to have the ones that didn't quite turn out right.*Zoom in on SERVICE DRONE BOB!
This is perhaps a most special case in the servicing staff of the Massive. Somehow the machines to which our little Bobby was born avoided deleting his emotions.. leaving him a rather depressed, disturbed and unhappy little Irken.Now we show you what it's like in his miserable little life.
(Bob's p.o.v.) Day in day out, I serve these Irkens, higher ranking than I. It's quite degrading having a table strapped to my back.My Medicare hardly ever covers my bills for back problems.. Oh Look, someone needs a refill. *Splashes juice in guy's face* "Lick it up! I quit!"
Again, I toss my sign in card to the floor only to hear the approach of a floating view screen in which the Tallest appear whom I'm supposed to worship and obey. I hear Red's angry voice. He wants me to pick up my sign in card and resume my services for the much better Irkens that me. I refuse. Purple reminds me snidely that I could always be used for other purposes with a wicked grin. I shudder and pick up my card than walk towards my 6 square feet of apartment which houses me every night. Soon I am in my bed clothes with Irken insignia and I pick up my journal. I open it and with a pen, I write about the day's woes. "Today, I was subjected to a horrible act. Several male Irkens subjected me to doing a strip tease, which is pretty hard considering I have a table strapped to my back. Since I couldn't remove the sleeves they cut them off with a pair of scissors leaving me shirtless for the remainder of the day.One guy even pinched my butt. *Shudders* Need I remind you, oh loyal diary, that this is almost an entirely male populated planet..? Oh well. At least I got the phone number of that cute slant eyed exotic Irken female wrote on my chest. My dear sweet Invader Vanilla..*swoons* I shall never wash my chest again. Crud. just spilled coffee all over my front. *Sigh* The writing is no longer legible. Might as well get the cleansing chalk. Service Drone Bob signing out."
You like..? Want more..?
TEEEELLLL MEEEEEE!!!
Goes to beat the crap out of Tommy Pickles, which should be considerably easy
Entering the gargantuan lounge of the Massive we see several Irkens being Served by table drones.These are regular Irkens without emotions, only born to serve. But then we happen to have the ones that didn't quite turn out right.*Zoom in on SERVICE DRONE BOB!
This is perhaps a most special case in the servicing staff of the Massive. Somehow the machines to which our little Bobby was born avoided deleting his emotions.. leaving him a rather depressed, disturbed and unhappy little Irken.Now we show you what it's like in his miserable little life.
(Bob's p.o.v.) Day in day out, I serve these Irkens, higher ranking than I. It's quite degrading having a table strapped to my back.My Medicare hardly ever covers my bills for back problems.. Oh Look, someone needs a refill. *Splashes juice in guy's face* "Lick it up! I quit!"
Again, I toss my sign in card to the floor only to hear the approach of a floating view screen in which the Tallest appear whom I'm supposed to worship and obey. I hear Red's angry voice. He wants me to pick up my sign in card and resume my services for the much better Irkens that me. I refuse. Purple reminds me snidely that I could always be used for other purposes with a wicked grin. I shudder and pick up my card than walk towards my 6 square feet of apartment which houses me every night. Soon I am in my bed clothes with Irken insignia and I pick up my journal. I open it and with a pen, I write about the day's woes. "Today, I was subjected to a horrible act. Several male Irkens subjected me to doing a strip tease, which is pretty hard considering I have a table strapped to my back. Since I couldn't remove the sleeves they cut them off with a pair of scissors leaving me shirtless for the remainder of the day.One guy even pinched my butt. *Shudders* Need I remind you, oh loyal diary, that this is almost an entirely male populated planet..? Oh well. At least I got the phone number of that cute slant eyed exotic Irken female wrote on my chest. My dear sweet Invader Vanilla..*swoons* I shall never wash my chest again. Crud. just spilled coffee all over my front. *Sigh* The writing is no longer legible. Might as well get the cleansing chalk. Service Drone Bob signing out."
You like..? Want more..?
TEEEELLLL MEEEEEE!!!
Goes to beat the crap out of Tommy Pickles, which should be considerably easy