“You’re thinking along the wrong lines,” said Marvin, “You’re failing to take into account something fairly basic in the relationship between men and robots.”
“Er, I know,” said the battle machine, “is it…” it tailed off into thought again.
“Just think,” urged Marvin, “they left me, an ordinary, menial robot, to stop you, a gigantic heavy-duty battle machine, whilst they ran off to save themselves. What do you think they would leave me with?”
“Oooh, er,” muttered the machine in alarm, “something pretty damn devastating I should expect.”
“Expect!” said Marvin, “oh yes, expect. I’ll tell you what they gave me to protect myself with, shall I?”
“Yes, alright,” said the battle machine, bracing itself.
“Nothing,” said Marvin.
There was a dangerous pause.
“Nothing?” roared the battle machine.
“Nothing at all,” intoned Marvin dismally, “not an electronic sausage.”
The machine heaved about with fury.
“Well, doesn’t that just take the biscuit!” it roared, “Nothing, eh? Just don’t think, do they?”
“And me,” said Marvin in a soft low voice, “with this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left side.”
“Makes you spit, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” agreed Marvin with feeling.
“Hell, that makes me angry,” bellowed the machine, “think I’ll smash that wall down!”
The electron ram stabbed out another searing blaze of light and took out the wall next to the machine.
“How do you think I feel?” said Marvin bitterly.
“Just ran off and left you, did they?” the machine thundered.
“Yes,” said Marvin.
“I think I’ll shoot down their bloody ceiling as well!” raged the tank.
It took out the ceiling of the bridge.
“That’s very impressive,” murmured Marvin.
“You ain’t seeing nothing yet,” promised the machine, “I can take out this floor too, no trouble!”
It took out the floor, too.
“Hell’s bells!” the machine roared as it plummeted fifteen storeys and smashed itself to bits on the ground below.
“What a depressingly stupid machine,” said Marvin and trudged away.