“You think the Wonk is a robot,” God echoed with a good simulation of incredulity. “The Wonk is a robot,” Uncharles confirmed. His legs were carrying him in a determined chase about the room, though he had given them no orders. “You still think I’m a robot?” the Wonk demanded, on the run. “The Wonk, this is very confusing. I am having to rewrite a large volume of recorded data to deal with this revelation and my system resources are inexplicably reduced.”
