Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Also, the Positronic Brain and a few other concepts involving the robot belong to Isaac Asimov.

A/N: I'm really, really glad that people like this fanfic! Thank you so much, Guest-Who-Reviewed-Chapter-23... and everyone who reviewed earlier chapters.

I'm sorry this chapter is so short.

Monday, ?/?/1974

Dear Diary,

So… it's been about a month since I last wrote anything.

Nothing's really happened lately. Well, I suppose some things have happened. Just nothing interesting. Anyway…

Today was only slightly interesting.

The morning went quite normally. Magenta made the most delightful chocolate pancakes for breakfast. Since it's a Monday, I went to see Riff. He scanned me with that stupid scanner of his. Like always, he didn't tell me what the scanner said. I suppose he's been taking notes for that Scientific Council he's always talking about!

Today, I asked him about it.

"Can I see any of the things your scanner says?" I asked.

"You won't understand them," he replied darkly.

"But what are you even scanning for?"

"It doesn't matter," he said bluntly.

Then, he handed me my 'weekly meds'. That means a bag with containers pills for each day of the week in it. I'm not exactly sure what's in those pills, but Magenta says Riff wouldn't hurt me intentionally.

I'm starting to think that she's too in love with him to notice anything he might do wrong.

Today, at lunch, Eddie wasn't around.

That worried me. Of course, I'd begun to suspect that something is wrong lately. He always seems to zone out during conversations. And he never noticed the fact that I've been wearing shirts that are a few sizes to big recently. Something really must be wrong.

Thankfully, Robby happened to be standing in the kitchen while I ate. So at least I had someone to talk to.

"Do you know where Eddie is?" I asked.

"Yes, miss," he replied.

"Can you tell me?"

"I am sorry, miss. Mr. Riff Raff ordered me not to. And I must-"

"-obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law," I finished, sighing in annoyance.

"I am sorry, miss," said Robby. "Mr. Riff Raff said: You can't say anything about this to anyone who isn't present."

Suddenly I had an idea. "Say? What about write?"

Suddenly I had an idea. "You can't say anything? What about write?"

"That is a matter of exact wording, miss. I am not truly disobeying the order. Should I write it? Or spell it out?"

"Write it... if you can!" I replied eagerly.

So, he did. He used some sort of pen that folded out of his right hand to write on a piece of paper.

What he wrote scared me, though wasn't surprising. I'll copy it here:

'Eddie has been taken away to be part of the latest science experiment. His brain will be used to replace the damaged one of a dead bodybuilder that Mr. Riff Raff dug up from the local graveyard.

It's like the film Universal Studios made in the 1930s, based very loosely on Shelley's groundbreaking 1818 novel. Riff wouldn't ever be a modern Prometheus. Neither would Frank, though he'd be taking the credit for the accursed thing.

"We've got save him!" I said desperately.

"I can not allow you to. They would hurt you, miss. That would break the first rule. And it would be bad if you got hurt. I can not allow that."

Now, the robot stood in front of the door. I wouldn't be able to leave.

"You're more human than them all, Robby," I muttered thoughtfully.

"Thank you, miss."

I swear I heard a touch of happiness in his voice. Can robots actually feel emotions, though? It seems that nonHAL-Asimov-42 can.

"Your a good friend, Robby," I said, as we stood there.

"My positronic brain merely makes me seem like a friend. I am artificial intelligence, not human. The positronic brain is a CPU that mimics sentience."

"What is sentience, though? What truly makes one human or not?" I asked, somewhat hypothetically.

"Some say to be human is to feel. To laugh at things. To think independently."

"Then you are human. Or, at least, more human than Riff," I replied.

After that remarkable conversation, I went to my room. There I read for a while, and then wrote this entry.

Later today I'll go looking for Eddie. It's only about 2:00 now.

And I still have to think of a clever way to rescue him. Riff doesn't take kindly to his science projects being disturbed.

- Columbia (a groupie)

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