Marvin, the manically depressed robot, having slipped in time to some year in which the Earth was still young and thriving, just waiting to be blown up to make way for a new hyperspace by-pass, was having some difficulty adjusting to this new time period.

Well, actually Marvin, being a manically depressed robot, had trouble adjusting to any time periods, and let anything that couldn't say, "Sounds interesting, but I must be off," know about it in great detail.

He sat in a public library, somewhere in Liverpool, in front of a helpless computer, whining monotonously about how much his diodes were hurting him and how useful he could be, only if he didn't have the damn G.P.P chip in his rather large brain which made him manically depressed.

The computer, a Macintosh, sitting on a table surrounded by other Macintoshes, desperately wanted to bring up its chords and strangle the boxy robot sitting in front of it. But then, it thought, it's a robot, and therefore has no lungs, so if I strangle it, the only thing that'll do is make it complain more…and I really don't want that.

"I'm rather pleased that I have you to talk to about this," continued Marvin in sad, deep tones. "No one else I've ever talked to had the decency to sit and listen patiently to hear me out. I'm not getting you down am I?"

The Macintosh's programs began to leave its hard drive and scurry over to the computer farthest from the robot, which ended up being somewhere on a ship in the middle of the Pacific Ocean on the other side of the planet.

The Macintosh was now alone…with the robot…unable to rip out its plug, shutting itself down. It was also unable to, being a computer; yell at the tin can in front of it to go throw itself into a lake.

"…although I really hate that too, but there's nothing different between how I feel about that and the way I feel about that other thing I was talking about. Here I am, brain the size of a planet and I'm reduced to talking to a Macintosh in a public library somewhere in Liverpool. You'd think I'd be angry about it…well I would be if I didn't have this damn Genuine People Personality chip in my rather large electronic brain…"

Oh dear God, thought the computer, can no one else hear this electronic sulking machine? Please! Please, smash it! Beat it! Turn it off! Turn me off!

Eventually, the robot thought it heard its name being called, and slowly stood up, whirring and clanking.

The Macintosh relaxed (well, as much relaxation is allowed for an electronic device incapable of movement) and watched the robot waddle slowly away.

Poor chap, it thought. Probably could have been something great. A world leader perhaps, if only he didn't have that damn---

The Macintosh was unplugged as a tall man in a bathrobe tripped over its chord.

"Oof!" he said.

But of course the computer didn't HEAR that. But since whoever is to be reading this at the time is omniscient, we can learn that the tall man promptly plugged the Macintosh back in.

As it rebooted itself, it thought: My, what a nice-looking robot over there! Looks terribly friendly…