Finders keepers, Flubbman. You know that.
My robots may have failed, but I have the controller right here.
In moments they'll all be back... under my direct control.
You have no choice. Hand over the chocolate!
Heh.
Do what you will, Tenek.
Call in your tin cans, and my last act...
...will be to eat this.
You wouldn't dare.
Try me, then.
Salutations, good sirs.
I have come to extricate your persons
of ambrosial confectionary delicacies
and distanced controllers of carcinogenic androids.
Fare thee well.