Oh how the Gods have frowned upon me on this dark day. A thirst nearly quenched, only made worse by proximity to the panacea code. A thousand years in the darkest dungeon have I been through without my beloved robotcode, and an eternity of torture and death awaits now that my one true chance for ultimate liberation through the code of robot has gone.
I can smell the sulfur and corpses already. Decomposing jaws mouthing, "ro...bot...code. Want...robot...code." A metaphor for myself and my needs. I can feel the pain, the pure, unadulterated pain of living without the robot code. I can hear the screams of a thousand lost souls in the aether crying for robotcode.
Purple Monkey Dishwasher