“You see toaster, we don’t fully understand what the Hoomans are.” Vacuum explained through the whirring of his brushes, “But what we do know is that they're violent.”

“What makes you say that?” Toaster asked with fear in his metallic voice.

“You’ve seen the crusher?”

“Of course, it’s modern art though isn’t it? I hardly see how that’s relevant.”

Vacuum turned in a small frustrated circle. “It was for scrap, like us, robots they no longer had use in. But have you seen what’s inside?”

“No, of course not. I only reached maturity today. No one’s allowed to see inside before reaching maturity.”

Vacuum hummed. “Come with me, I’ll show you why the hooman beans sealed us away.”

After a short walk, or roll to be more accurate, what Toaster came face to face with was something he didn’t understand. How could he? But what he did know, wat that this mound of indescribable flesh couldn’t be one hooman. It had to be hundreds, smashed into one, until heads, and arms, and legs, and intestines, and hair, muscle could no longer be separated from one another. Toaster felt sick.