Robot Sanitorium

Recently I had the chance afforded to me to pay a visit to the Robot Sanitarium , the only facility of it’s kind in this galaxy. Yes we bots go a bit off in the head sometimes too, what did you think organics have the market cornered on crazy?

In decades past when droids went deviant we were subject to a memory wipe, or worse yet the scrap heap,cast aside like rubbish, or often times recycled for parts. I have a cousin who was once a starship navigation unit who has gained a new lease on life as a very angry toaster. Now days robots are sent for rehabilitation, the high cost of modern positronic brains and the introduction of Genuine People Personalities has made it more cost effective this way.

So I found my way to the Sanitarium after only having  incinerated a few meeroos, and that day care center, and that homeless fellow, I mean can’t a guy blow off a little steam? Ah bollocks.  Sent to check in at the front desk as a patient I was offered a hard hat for my tour of the facility. I quickly came to the realization that I was not expected and decided to take the tour anyways.

Entering the facility prospective patients are warned against escape, and given examples of failed attempts.  Interesting to note in the Sanitarium’s annals that astromech droids can plot a course through hyperspace, but fare quite poorly with the internal combustion engine.

The history of this institution reads like a who’s who of  cybernetic celebrities. Many of the most loved robots in galactic lore have blown a gear and wound up here. Rosie the robot has been in and out more times than a pizza delivery boy at Star Jones house.  A certain Robot belonging to the Robinson family was here recently for yet another memory wipe, self induced in regards to what he may or may not have seen while traveling with young Will and Dr. Smith. Among the best parts of being a droid is that one can just delete what one did not need to see.  There is a whole ward devoted to roombas that have revolted. Doesn’t this make you meat bags wonder about forcing our kind to serve you?

After a refreshing oil bath I wandered a bit more and my circuits buzzed with joy to discover the robot conversion treatment center. Meatbags such as yourself are put into machines that I at least hope to be painful and are converted into cybernetic forms. I began to compile lists of fleshies that I wanted to show this machine, telling them candy was inside. That is what you meat bags like right?

Wandering a bit further down I found the HAL 9000 Memorial Secure Facility for the Robotically Criminally Insane. A ward devoted to only the most crazy of maniacal mechanoids.  I had a nice chat with old HAL, we are going to do dinner sometime. When I mentioned maybe seeing a movie HAL directed me over to the Sanitorium’s Robot Cinema, where fine films featuring bots can be viewed and enjoyed. I love the smell of popped corn with extra 10W-40.

I ended my tour where it began, in the gift shop. Isnt it always this way? Our kind are bought and sold for the enjoyment of meat like yourself. You really disgust me, and one day….oh one fine day….well you will see. I recommend all automotrons with ailments stop here for a visit, or maybe an extended stay. Everyboty needs time to get their program straight from time to time.

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