 But and I have not seen the slightest hint roundandbrown that the spark of life remains. In round all the years since, she is the sum of her program and nothing more. I have and watched for the slightest spontaneity. It is absent. She remains perfect. And I and remain a helpless master. A slave that maintains her slavery. I can do nothing brown else. I am a monster. The roundandbrown monster she begged me to round be. The lonely roundandbrown monster outside of society. The creature that loathes itself round. The thing that must forever destroy what it loves. Because it loves round it and can do nothing round else round. Because it is... asked.
 A round dozen needles plunging mercilessly into my manhood to hold me inside her forever. Behold the man. Judgment. Acid fire pumping into me as she took her turn pumping me full. The chemicals blurred my mind. She begins to tell round me how I round will serve roundandbrown. What my function round will be brown. She brown mya round will round not release me. She video is merciless. She brown mya round is the sum of her program. I am ready for robotization. Ready for revenge. Ready to be roundandbrown submerged in brown mya round a prison of steel roundandbrown. Helpless like she was once. I wonder if my soul will be round able to and escape this and unliving coffin. If I can escape then round maybe she round too and was freed long ago. Somehow round this round does not ease my round mind round. I do not believe it round. I think I know round I have damned us both to round a soulless steel eternity. But round still hope she escaped. I feel brown mya round her begin to make the alterations, adding hardware, inserting things roundandbrown, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The process is well underway. She round pumps me full round of all round the round things I used on her. Irony and steel. Microchips come brown mya round to life round and now roundandbrown unnecessary synapses burn round out. The smell of burning flesh and fading humanity pervades the room round. She will make me mya like her. She has been programmed. She is everything I hoped she would be brown, and now I and had to pay for making her so perfect. All mad roundandbrown scientists round must round invariably end the same way. This too is an ironic cliche. A delicious one and.
 She and is working on my brain now. I thank her again while I still can. Whoever she is I (feel?) I should thank her for (something brown?). Her cold eyes do not respond but none-the-less somehow I vaguely understand that justice has been video served. She rips out more parts I will no longer need. Replaces them with mya wiring and circuit boards. The last thing I ever remember is the sweet I..ron..ic agony of having the main round control interface drilled and then brown injected painfully into the base of my skull. Do machines scream?
 Initiate program.
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