“There, there,” the ButlerBot says, without making even the slightest effort to sound comforting. “There’s a time and a place for that, and I must confess to have neither the interest nor software to indulge in such behaviour. Please save such displays for Miss Henry.”
The ButlerBot ejects a spoon and scoops a thick glug of green puree from the bowl.
“The Rites of Heegurkurkur deplete the physical body’s precious bodily essences. Miss Henry is quite clear on the matter.”
The spoon nears your face, gliding closer, closer…
“You must eat to replenish your essences, before it is too late. It is nearly time!”
a. Eat the damn porridge.
b. Cry more.
c. HAMMER TIME.