What are you doing?

Oh. Hi. So. How are you holding up? BECAUSE I'M A POTATO.

claps slowly three times

Oh, good. My slow-clap processor made it into this thing. So we have that. Since it doesn't look like we're going anywhere - Well, we are going somewhere. Alarmingly fast, actually. - but since we're not busy other than that, here's a couple of facts: he's not just a regular moron. He's the product of the greatest minds of a generation working together with the express purpose of building the dumbest moron who ever lived. And you just put him in charge of the entire facility.

clap, clap

Good, that's still working. Hey, just in case this pit isn't actually bottomless, do you think maybe you could unstrap one of those long-fall boots of yours and shove me into it? Just remember to land on one foot...

Ooh. It's dark down here, isn't it? They say that the old caretaker of this place went absolutely crazy. Chopped up his entire staff - of robots - all of them robots! They say at night you can still hear the screams - of their replicas. All of them functionally indistinguishable from the originals... No memory of the incident... Nobody knows what they're screaming about. Ab-solutely terrifying. Though obviously not paranormal in any meaningful way.

Some emergency testing may require prolonged interaction with lethal military androids. Rest assured that all lethal military androids have been taught to read and provided with one copy of the Laws of Robotics. To share.

Bean counters said I couldn't fire a man just for being in a wheelchair. Did it anyway. Ramps are expensive.