"I'm sorry Mrs. Jablonski, but your robot's got severe rust-itis and will have to be shut down . . . permanently," the robo-mechanic said.
Like clockwork, the clock worked.
After losing my third finger, I thought maybe I should have looked at those instructions after all.
Coach Vaughn aligned the metal bat with the kneecap, "You're just going to have to take one for the team, Johnny."
Poor Johnny.
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