(message: Robot: Here's your incredibly complex robot, sir. I sprained my thermodiodinal-tricycler carrying it out here for you. I hope you're satisfied.) (message: Robot: And I hope you're smarter than you look, or you'll never be able to put it together. How depressing.) (message: Unfortunately, you AREN'T smarter than you look, so you'd best leave the incredibly complex robot parts alone before you hurt yourself. Too bad they don't give rebates to retrobates.) (message: You can tell this is definitely out of your league. You can't even open the boxes, let alone assemble what's inside.) (message: Well, okay. If you really feel competent enough to assemble this thing, just do it. Start with the smallest box.) (Roger opens the box and it explodes, taking him with it.) (message: Oops.) (still shot: The Grim Reaper holding Roger in his bony grasp. message: Guess this was a bit beyond your capabilities. Speaking of bits, that's about all that remains of you. Hope you can regroup those molecules and get back to the game.)

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