For the record, I don’t make this shit up. From now on, I just write these down, count to three, and it’s a script. Also, in the corporeal realm, the box only bore the label “condoms,” it did not indeed use them as packing chips. But for some reason that might’ve made more sense? Technology is weird, man.

I’ve advised Danielle to remember the phrase, “So long as she bleeds for us we’ll be fine,” when we’re cowering in the corner of a building without windows or power as our robot overlords sweep across ruined cities enslaving all in their wake. Profiting from the sale of robots specifically designed to bleed and scream and cry would likely result in some awkward diplomatic moments in this scenario.