So I'm in the middle of my second drink when this robot sits down next to me and starts talking in some kind of robot speak that nobody can understand. It belched out a continuous series of chirps, clicks and grunts with an occasional gurgle thrown in for good measure. It just kept going. There's no way I could figure out what the damned thing was saying and it's getting pretty annoying. The bartender wasn't much help either, but he's a robot too so that's to be expected. At least my third drink is on the house, so there's that I guess. Now on my fourth drink and this robot is driving me crazy. It won't shut up. I mean, it's the year 2117, you figure that it could at least speak in English. But no. In fact it's getting louder and now it's beginning to leak oil. Why won't it just shut up or at least go away? There are plenty of other people here it could bother. Why me? Finally, I'd had enough. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my pulse gun. I made a quick aim and pulled the trigger. There was a bright flash of green light quickly followed by a vaporizing blast. I blew that damned thing back to hell or wherever it came from. The bar was completely quiet now except for the sputtering sound of a damaged arm servo and some thick dripping. At least I think it was an arm servo. Kind of hard to tell now. Nothing else left of that robot but a few fried circuits, bits of titanium and what seems to be a singed 'pleasure port'. The walls were spattered with a kind of oozing gel-like substance. Well, I guess it had it coming. Now I can finish my drink in peace. I hate malfunctioning robots. email: [email protected] web: www.michaeloster.com