Mr Space Robot
1 May 1998 - MR SPACE ROBOT
I’ve inherited a robot from a dead uncle. The robot’s name is Mr Space Robot. I quite like having Mr Space Robot around, as he reminds me of my dead Uncle. Repeatedly, as it happens - he just doesn’t shut up. Actually, I’ve decided I don’t like this aspect of Mr Space Robot, as he speaks in a ridiculous sibulant whine.
Mr Space Robot has other uses, though. For instance, I might decide to programme him to roll some dough, or bake a haddock. I just don’t know yet, I might even decide to smash his face in.
2 May 1998 - MR SPACE ROBOT
Living with a malfunctioning droid called Mr Space Robot is crazy: I just never know what is going to happen next! Last night Mr Space Robot brought me my bed time "cocoa". What it turned out to be was the ingredients of cocoa - nuts, chocolate, ice cream and sap - broken down into their separate components.
At least, that’s what Mr Space Robot said before he threw the entire concoction are the wall above my bed. Mr Space Robot then went out of control, and fell into the wardrobe.
4 May 1998 - MR SPACE ROBOT
I had to lock Mr Space Robot in a cupboard last night, as I had the vicar coming for tea. Mr Space Robot wasn’t having any of it, though, and repeatedly hammered on the cupboard door, and emitted a loud buzzing sound whenever the vicar enquired as to what was going on.
Things took a turn for the worse when the vicar got up to leave, and Mr Space Robot burst from the cupboard, and tried to pull the vicar’s jumper up. I knew I shouldn’t have let him upload that pornography...
5 May 1998 - MR SPACE ROBOT
My house guest, Mr Space Robot, has malfunctioned and wants to kill me. I first knew things were wrong last night when he threw himself into the bath while I was washing my back. Thankfully, he didn't short-circuit, but he did smash a hole in the bottom of the bath.
Later, as I insisted that Mr Space Robot pay for the damage to the bath, he hit me with a tennis racket. Luckily the blow bounced off the Fez I happened to be wearing at the time.