Attach

“Had it truly come to this?” Rodney contemplated to himself as he rolled the ice cream scoop around in his fingers. “Have I reached my limit?”

For 200 years Rodney had pursued a dream, or whatever the closest equivalent a robot can have to a dream. That robot-dream was to become the most perfect thing in existence. He would become the robot to end all other robots, capable of every function, capable of any task set before him.

It started off slowly at first. An eggbeater attachment here. A grasping clawed-hand there. He kept finding new things to add on to his frame. Eventually it had become an obsession. Things that he could truly do without had to be attached because what if someone needed their nose hairs trimmed, or their glass chess board set buffed, and they asked Rodney? How could he tell them that he was imperfect? How could he?

As he stared at the ice cream scoop in his hand he finally understood the futility in it all. He would never be perfect. The urge was still to strong though, and he attached the scoop to one of his many arms knowing full well it would never be needed.