Congratulations Failurebot!

BEEP BOOP BEEP! you’ll intone as you complete the equation flawlessly.  The math professor will stand behind you, v-neck sweater tense around his shoulders,  goatee pointedly aroused in protest of your invasion of his professional space.  Once he realizes what you’ve written his jaw will drop.  He’ll drag the piece of chalk underneath the equation, checking each of the terms, muttering to himself.

“I never thought it could be done…” he’ll murmur to himself.  Then he’ll take off his v-neck sweater and hand it to you.

“You’re the teacher now, Failurebot.”

ERROR! you’ll shout in confusion.

“You see, Failurebot, it was inevitable that, as a robot built to fail at everything you would eventually fail at failing.  It couldn’t be helped.”

You’ll gesture apologetically at him, but your stupid robot hands will fail at making an even vaguely sympathetic gesture – you’ll just end up flipping him off.

I FUCKED YOUR WIFE! you’ll screech at the Professor in an attempt to comfort him.  He’ll chortle gently at your effort.

“Oh, Failurebot.  You were my greatest success.  Or should I say…failure?”  After he finishes his sentence he and the entire class will burst into laughter.  At this point your eyes will glow green.  Your momentary success will be offset by your sustained capacity for comic relief.  Even in your failure at failing, you’ll still fail just enough to distract from how big a loser the Professor is, which is why he built you in the first place.  With any luck you’ll keep from killing himself for a while yet, at least long enough for him to figure out how to free you from your failure based programming.

Congratulations Failurebot!