The Death of Mr. Robotto
Clouds of smoke billowed from the large solid fuel rocket engines that slowed the massive Compol battle cruiser McDoodoo as it descended toward an open field several kilometers from the tar pits. In the cave of the diagnostic programmers make-shift desks were being emptied, listings were being packed, and hex calculators were teing turned off. From the ship poured out masses of the brushed metal helmets.
“I calculate that we are in trouble…” Mr. Robotto began to speak but he was cut short as the entire group of diagnostic programmers, Rosy Retson, Bill Torque, Mio from Rio, Mr. Miskochief, Admiral Bozoni, and Stedur the monk were enveloped by the red marking beams flowing from the Compol molecular reducers. These were followed by the aqua reducing teams that left only charred remains outside the dinosaurs’ cave.
As his CCD arrays began to melt, Mr. Robotto contemplated his existence until his personality and motivational logic fried. His nuclear hardened frame then stood tall amidst the rubble as deep within his emergency survival subsystem the “DETONATE WARHEAD” flip-flop flipped.
Peace be with you! We shall all be employed again!