ROBOT BUDDY FWEND
One day a large box materialized on the floor of my work shop. I was fairly certain I hadn't ordered it. I had no idea what was inside, and neither did anyone I asked about it. I poked at it. I shook it. I sniffed and I listened. In a sudden seizure of insight I knew exactly what it was and scrambled for the nearest sharpie.
When I was a kid I loved the movie Short Circuit. Johnny-5 was my jam. I wanted a robot so badly that my dad was finally persuaded to make me one using wood scraps and lag screws for the body and a large bouncy ball for the head. I was not so easily impressed. Where were the hydraulic pumps, and those expressive fluttering eye flaps? Robots could never cast a shadow on my love of dinosaurs. But because, during what turned out to be a really upsetting conversation, my father assured me that the spry chicken-sized Compsognathus I so desperately had my heart set on would still eat my dog, my heart eventually warmed to the clunky cyborg who had a hard time holding himself upright at the dinner table.
Johnny-5 jr. had a short life span, we realized he had an important picture frame inside of him and had to slice him open. Sorry buddy!