The empath read his thoughts and wept quietly.
He pulled out his Ferbie. The aliens ran.
He pulled out his nuclear warhead. They smiled.
He pulled out his Bazooka. The aliens laughed.
He pulled out his Beretta. The aliens laughed.
The cowboy bowed to the alien, “Howdy, Pard’ner.”
The robot killed its master and wept bitterly.
It made the Kessel run in 120 parsecs.
He brokered a trade: spam for intergalactic travel.
“Braaains,” he said though he couldn’t remember why.
The dog happily returned with the zombie’s forearm
In that moment, justice wavered like Schrödinger’s cat.
Sam fought aliens to free the aliens’ homeland.
The man disengaged and became a genuine robot
The robot longed to be a real man.
The puppet longed to be a real robot.
The robot creaked forward, “Know a good mechanic?”
Fourth law of robotics: ignore first three laws.
George landed on the moon inside his room.
My paradise deteriorated due to lack of maintenance.
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