The restaurant was busy, teeming with working-class folks eager to fill their stomachs before another bland day at work. He made his way to the center of the dining room floor, pushing past busy patrons and side-stepping chairs and tables. Then he spoke.

"Attention, people of Earth," he droned in a monotonous, but booming, electronic voice, "I am an evil robot. I am here on a mission to destroy your planet, but first, a balanced breakfast would be nice! Service please!"

The patrons of the diner turned their faces toward the stranger for a brief moment, but then returned to their meals.

The robot was perturbed. "Ahem," he continued, "I said I I am an evil robot. I demand service now, so that I may proceed to destroy this festering dungheap."

"Hey, buddy," one patron shouted at him, "park it over there! You're blocking the TV."

For reasons he himself didn't understand, the robot complied, taking a seat at the front counter next to a small, unclean man. No one from the wait staff appeared. The robot began to get impatient.

He shouted in the direction of the kitchen, "Can we hurry, please? I have other worlds to destroy too, you know!"

There was no response. The waitress was busy serving other patrons.

He pounded his fists on the countertop. "Service!" he shouted. "Do not ignore me or I will incinerate all of you with my death rays and feed your charred remains to the mongrels outside this two-star establishment!"

The dirty man looked at the robot apathetically, then spoke. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Charred remains. Whatever. Hmmm…charred. Waitress! I'll have the char-broiled steak, please!"

"For breakfast?" the robot responded, incredulously. He paused for a moment, then continued. "Oh, what do I care? Eat what you wish. It doesn't matter. Soon, you will be nothing but a smoldering pile of ashes!"

"Hey, we all gotta go sometime, buddy," the dirty patron responded. "What do you care, anyway?"

The robot's patience was wearing thin. "LLittle man," he responded, "Your breath reeks of unbrushed teeth and bad coffee and you are annoying. Please refrain from bothering me or I will squash you like the insignificant bug that you are. Service!"

He paused for a moment, then, as if making a mental note to himself, muttered, "…lack of personal hygiene. One of many reasons I must destroy this plabet." His voice began to gradually rise. "…but not before I get fresh waffles from the griddle and two eggs, over easy! Service! I do not wish to initiate the destruction of your pathetic planet on an empty stomach!"

He scanned the room, only to find that the patrons were still engrossed in their own activities, oblivious to his threats.

"If I don't get service immediately, I shall rain down destruction upon this facility, the likes of which you have never seen," he boomed.

A man spoke up from the crowd. "Rain?" he said. "Did somebody say it was gonna rain? Ah, geez, I didn't bring an umbrella!" He then returned to his newspaper.

The robot's temper was at a boiling point. "MOCK ME NOW, FOOLISH EARTHLINGS," he fumed, "BUT REST ASSURED, THERE WILL BE NO MOCKING WHEN THIS ENTIRE CITY BLOCK IS LITTERED WITH YOUR BLOOD-SOAKED REMAINS!! SERVICE!!!!" He pounded his fists adamantly, until finally, a waitress appeared before him. "Hey stranger," she flirted, "I haven't seen you around here before." "THAT'S BECAUSE I'VE BEEN BUSY DESTROYING PLANETARY BODIES IN FIVE SOLAR SYSTEMS!" he responded. "PASS ME A MENU, PLEASE! MUST I ASK TWICE?" The waitress handed him a menu, then sauntered off before he could continue his tirade. He perused the menu for a moment, then resumed his rant. "ARRRRRRRGH!!!" he screamed. "WHY ARE THERE NO GRITS ON THE MENU??? THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!! I SUPPOSE THERE'S NO CAP'N CRUNCH EITHER! WHY DO THEY ALWAYS LEAVE OUT THE CAP'N? HE'S PART OF A NUTRITIOUS, DELICIOUS BREAKFAST! I'VE DESTROYED ENTIRE STARSYSTEMS FOR LESSER OFFENSES!" He paused, attempting to let his circuits cool down, then continued his rant. "I SIMPLY CANNOT TAKE THIS ANY LONGER. I DEMAND MY BREAKFAST NOW, SO THAT THE DESTRUCTION CAN BEGIN. I WILL ENJOY WATCHING THE PIECES OF THIS PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A CELESTIAL BODY BEING SCATTERED ACROSS THE GALAXY! WAITRESS!!! I DEMAND SERVICE NOW!!!! He continued with the emphatic fist-pounding. The waitress returned to the table and in her most nonchalant voice, asked "All right sweetie, what'll it be?" "FINALLY," the robot began with a sigh of relief, "I WOULD LIKE THE SUNRISER PLATTER, WITH EXTRA BISCUITS, GRAVY AND A GLASS OF ORANGE JUICE. OH, AND I'D LIKE FIVE PACKS OF STRAWBERRY JELLY. THAT'S JELLY, NOT JAM. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE." With a mock look of sympathy, she responded, "I'm sorry, sweetie, but it's 10:35. We stopped serving breakfast five minutes ago. You'll have to come back tomorrow." "OH," he responded. He paused, then stood up to make his way to the door. "YOUR SUPERIOR LOGIC HAS SAVED YOU TODAY", he continued, "BUT REST ASSURED, I WILL BE BACK TOMORROW, BRIGHT AND EARLY, TO SERVE YOU DEATH AFTER YOU SERVE ME SCATTERED, COVERED AND SMOTHERED HASHBROWNS!!! FOOLISH EARTHLINGS…."