Edit: The Death Of Suitbot #2, Herr D's Oldest Sci-Fi Poem, 'We' Could Do A Lot Better

[recorded segment begins]

. . . nd every OTHER one. What?! Oh. Some of you have wondered why I've been away. I needed to be extracted by suitbot #3. There was an incident. Shelob!

Here.

Play back that bit of dialogue and bring out that poem by Herr D I flagged. It's thematically linked.

--Thank you, by the way, to Asimov's magazine. First, for not accepting that piece, and keeping me from having to ask you for permission. Second, for actually sending Herr D a rejection letter. He was obviously sick of being ignored by the other publications he sent stuff to.

[cache access, preselected text dump]
{    [Incident converted from suitbot #2's cache]

[Hairy in suitbot #2, with carefully firmwared facial expression of thoughtfulness, listening to political commentary by an enthusiast, falls into step with him and follows him to his truck]

Sir: What you want?

[bends down to pick up piece of litter, tosses it in nearby waste can] I notice you are very passionate about all that.

Sir: Why SHOULDN'T I be?

[firmwaring up 'you misunderstand' expression and headshaking] No reason. I just had a question and figure you have an opinion on it.

Sir: You a reporter?

No! [firmware subtle laugh] I do write things down though. Terrible memory. [pulls out handwritten notes] I wonder about your opinion about these. These are notes on the things he's said that aren't  right. Do you just think the statements don't matter or are you learning his 'tells' for when he's in office so you'll know him well enough to know when he's lying or uninformed then?

Sir: [having grown very angry during the last two sentences, buries fist in suitbot #2's face, damaging facial expression firmware unit between 56% and 62%] !@#$%^&

Oww! You've ruined my suit!

Sir: [pulling fist out, bringing total damage to 64%] What the--

[without face, through throat speaker] !@#$%^& You RUINED MY SUIT! [pockets notes]

Sir: [sags against truck, staring with wide eyes] You're--you're--

Angry. Yes. You hit me. Now I have to hide this broken face. In the future, why don't you just say you don't want to talk about it?!

Sir: You're--

Oh, !@#$%^& [sticks 3 tentacles out, jumps to overhead sign, clambers into empty warehouse to begin getaway, noting shaking of culprit being left behind]

[end suitbot #2 incident cache conversion recording]     }


EXTRACTION OF HAIRY'S 'LIKES' OF HERR D'S TEXT:

{                 Overheard By UFO Watcher:
by Herr D

Earth Authority--please note that our random samplings are complete. 

That stranger you reacted to with fear or distrust?
That person you made fun of a little too loudly?
That kindness you could have extended to a stranger but didn't?

Those were tests. Your results were substandard. Earth is being disqualified.

Your Planetary Authority may appeal in 281 Earth years or re-apply in 436 years for Galactic Unibenefits, including cancer cures, pollution-free technology, and logistical aid.

Have a nice Galactic rotation!

                 }

[recorded segment and requested attachments end]