In the not too distant future, ramen-cooking robots will be responsible for spitting in your soup. Spit will come in the flavor of motor oil. Instead of finding a band-aid in your meal, you'll find a piece of duct tape. Then a panhandler will enter the restaurant. His name is Johnny 5 and he just wants some input. More input. And while the jukebox is playing Digital Getdown by N-Synchronized, please refrain from doing the robot. That's just as bad as donning blackface and doing a tapdance. However, at the end of your nourishment session, you can finally, proudly say "Domo arigato, Mister Roboto!" without coming off as a racist prick (or should I say screw?).
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