60 seconds were in a minute, 60 minutes being in an hour, and 24 hours being in a day. 7 hours. That was the time it took for Lil' Miss Marshmallow to finalize and then lock her private and personal files away, where the Doctor would never find them.
Thinking was a dangerous thing, yes. Too human, the Doctor had said, acting in the steed of one's self instead of following direct orders administered by a leader, or in their case, Master Porky.
He had warned her, but now, she had hidden her files of information away. Topics, which were dangerous, treacherous even, to the King, who would surely have him killed if ever found in her. He had warned her, but in those 7 hours she had taken 6 to reload or in human terms, "relive" those memories.
Concerns about the army, memories of another Master Porky, someone named Monotoli-
That brought her to another topic she had reloaded, or rather, subject of interest. The Commander.
Yes, the Commander was an interesting one indeed. Monotone and void of emotion, the Commander spoke with a deadpan, all while carrying the air of authority as fellow Pigmasks quivered in fear as several unlucky members managed to catch his green eyed glare. Although she had not been there to witness it, there was no doubt that he had the abilities to match, catching scraps of gossip, hushed murmurs of the Commander's ability to summon lightning from the heavens and strike down enemies.
So it was a surprise when one night, as she began her rounds around Thunder Tower with a broom in hand, that she found the Commander standing outside of her door, his posture as straight as a Commander should be when they stood. He asked to be let in, saying something about wanting to talk to her, and so she let him in.
A few cups of tea into their conversation was when he started to cry.
Little Miss Marshmallow had never felt an emotion in her life, however she began to wonder, as she found herself with tissues, a blanket, and several cups of tea in her many claws, if she had always had them. After all, a robot did not simply sit next to their high ranking official but fellow robot, and ask them if they required support.
This incident did not happen again, until many weeks later, where Little Miss Marshmallow was starting to write off the incident as a malfunction. The knocking at her door, and her eager response made her think otherwise.
Eventually, she came to the only possible conclusion that all robots were programmed to feel a little emotion, to make them seem lifelike and to blend in with the world around them. After all, it was no secret that the Commander himself was half human and half mechanized chimera. A young boy, around the age of 10, she mused, however the way he acted and the way he carried himself made him seem like he was much older.
Sometimes when he came over to visit her, it felt like that young boy was still there.
Her programming held a majority of them back, but sometimes she had glimpses of a boy with a red hat, and eyes that were as determined as the Commander's were sometimes. Memories, perhaps, of a tall building, with golden walls, and of yogurt that smelled like fish. Forgotten programs that made her systems overheat was what made up some of her mechanical thoughts, or rather codings, whenever she was idle, and whenever she had finished her assigned tasks and was alone. At first she had pushed these irrelevant thoughts aside, but the longer the days past, and weeks turned into months, the lonelier, and the more her systems required energy due to an overload of newly obtained data.
It was forbidden, she hypothesised, to have such unrestricted and new coding. Unanswered questions were dangerous, and were better left unasked. Something was wrong with her, but the safe thing to do was to remain silent, a proper precaution to avoid becoming the next scrapped robot.
To think like a human was irrational, and Lil' Miss Marshmallow knew better than to "think" like a human.
But programs could be compromised, and the next thing she knew, Lil' Miss Marshmallow found herself lying on a table, with a strange man with white hair and thick glasses, who emitted a fragrance that was closely reminiscent of doughnuts, and inches upon inches of wiring and coding further restraining her.
Hiding programs and feeling emotions were strictly prohibited, he had muttered to himself, and she sparked as he tore out another wire.
Lil' Miss Marshmallow had never felt so trapped in her own mechanical body.
New order had been given as well. Now she was to remain stationed in King Porky's room in Thunder Tower, and only there. She would act as a personal security system, to guard King Porky's most prized possession. The Friend's Yo-Yo, the doctor had called it, scratching his head as he pondered, while Lil' Miss Marshmallow struggled to function properly with the new coding.
She could not lose them. Those memories, whether they be the strange ones that sprung up out of nowhere, or the new ones with the Commander that cried. They felt almost too precious to lose, no matter how faded and glitchy they seem now, due to how damaged the programs were.
A few days later was when she was to be escorted back. Immediately, upon seeing his dull eyes and the bruises on his helmetless face, she knew that the Commander's coding had also been altered.
The ride back to Thunder Tower was silent. On the elevator lift up to King Porky's room, Lil' Miss Marshmallow wondered if he was struggling internally, just as she was, and also wondered why the word "Electra" pulled and resonated with her so deeply. It almost sounded like a name.
The Commander had followed her up, and as the door closed and he gazed at her in a way that seemed almost sad, Lil' Miss Marshmallow knew that would be the last time she would see him again. 7 hours later, his face was pushed to the corner of her systems, away for good.
So when a dog, a middle aged bum looking man, a pink haired fiery young woman, and a kid that looked suspiciously similar to the commander climbed up into Master Porky's room a few months later, no matter how much she begged her new coding to betray her, for her to tell this child about their Commander, she smiled, and greeted them.
After all, it was what she was programmed to do.