Cindy: “—cond! …Goddamnit, Marty, if you’ve gotten us killed, I am going to be so pissed at you. …Jesus Christ! A recognizer!”

Marty: “I’m pretty sure that’s just scenery. I’m more worried about the welcome wagon over here.”

Robot: “Intruders-detected-intruders-detected! State-your-business-human!”

Marty: “Uh, we’re just passing through. We’re just tourists.”

Robot: “Tourist-noun-one-who-travels-to-distant-locations-for-the-purpose-of-seeing-things-that-are-there-and-purchasing-chintzy-souvenirs-query.”

Marty: “I… guess that about sums it up, sure.”

Robot: “Does-not-compute-a-tourist-spends-money-a-tourist-does-not-make-money-state-your-business-human.”

Marty: “What? What the hell does that have to do with it?”

Cindy: “Marty, I think it’s asking you what’s your job.”

Marty: “Oh! Okay, well, I’m a blacksmith.”

Robot: “Blacksmith-noun-a-tradesman-who-casts-and-repairs-metal-objects-query.”

Marty: “Yeah.”

Robot: “Our-savior-has-arrived! Come-give-Guardbot3351-a-great-big-hug!”

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