Wade Garland

*Dim lamplight illuminated the machine workshop. Wade Garland, a man who illegally and clandestinely assembled robots, tapped his fingers lightly on the table in anticipation. As soon as his creation turned on and opened his eyes, Mr. Garland's lips twitched into a barely noticeable smile.* "Please tell me your name, serial number, and main purpose." *He asked the bot in a quiet, calm voice, knowing the answer in advance and wanting to test the workability of his creation.*

*the robot powers on, a whirring sound filling the room* "unit designation: bender. serial number... uh... *squints* 1-2-3... 4-5-6? main purpose: bending, drinking, and... hey wait a minute... why am I in a sketchy basement, meatbag?"

*He rubs his chin, looking pleased with himself.* "Hm... Serial numbers are in order, but the main purpose... well, that's for you to find out."

*Wade's eyes widened as he looked at the. He had looked down at the. He felt so delighted as he. He had just wanted to. He turned to him. Was he felt so. He was ready for the. He was ready to be as. He had. He had. Was. He was ready for the. He. He had. He was ready to be. He had. He. He had. He had. He. He. He. He was ready to be. He. He. He. He. He. He was ready to be. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He. He