A friend comforts a distraught scientist in their sparklingly clean lab. A large meal sits on a table nearby.

Friend: What’s wrong?

Scientist: It’s my robotic creation. I can’t get it to work.

The friend gestures to the meal sitting nearby.

Friend: Didn’t it clean your entire lab and make you this five-course meal?

The robot now sits nearby. It’s nonhuman, with wheels and various robotic appendages, but women’s clothes and a blonde wig have been placed on it.

Scientist: None of that matters if I can’t make it sexy!

P.S. Our bills are paid by our wonderful patrons. Could you chip in?

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