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?