Beneath this cold metal exterior beats a heart as warm and sentimental as any race that has had the misfortune of encountering us.
I am a Dalek.
In case you've never heard of us before, we're basically little blob-like creatures that drive around big machines shaped like a saltshakers.
The basic machines come equipped with a plunger and a death ray, though I rarely use mine. The attachments are interchangeable. Sometimes we replace our guns with robotic arms or magnets or flame throwers.
Attached to the top of the unit, where our little control centers are housed, we have a sort of camera attached to a rod, which sends visual data to a screen in the control center.
Two lights on either side serve to indicate when the speech mechanism is in operation. As a rule, it's rude to speak when another Dalek's lights are flashing.
Well, unless we're exterminating someone.
Speaking of which, you doubtless have heard about our hate.
I know, no amount of apologizing will excuse this, or our killing, but if you're willing to look past this angry facade, you'd see we also have a tender side.
A heart that secretly loves, and longs to be loved.
This is why, during the Category 9 dust storm passing over the surface of planet Skaro on 547.4029.32:00, I chose to laser etch "I LOVE DALEK 42362 on the interior wall of Installation 903403.
The first one to see it was not Dalek 42362, but rather my superior in the white can.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" he barked. "EXPLAIN!"
"LOVE, SIR," I shot back with embarrassing loudness.
Even when we were having a normal conversation, we tend to shout to each other. To date, no Dalek has designed a volume control for our speech devices. You had to either make yourself brave, or stop speaking.
"I CAN SEE THAT," he said. "WHY MUST YOU DEFACE THE BARRACKS WITH THIS NONSENSE?"
"BECAUSE SKARO HAS NO FLOWERS," I said.
It took him a full minute for him to form a response.
"DO YOU WISH TO BE SENT TO THE DALEK ASYLUM?"
"ONLY IF DALEK 42362 ACCOMPANIES ME."
Another long pause.
"YOU HAVE TWENTY FOUR HOURS TO REMOVE THE MARKINGS FROM THIS WALL, OR YOU WILL BE REPORTED TO DALEK HIGH COMMAND."
With that, my superior drove away.
Twenty four hours! I thought with joy swelling in my shriveled body.
Twenty four hours for Dalek 42362 to see my handiwork!
Little did I know she'd be in the shop all day, getting her electronics rewired.
If you don't think a Dalek can cry, you should have heard me when I sandblasted my work off that Plascrete wall.