The writer was busy writing, as always. Couldn’t afford any distraction. Wouldn’t agree to any speaking engagements, as many writers do.
He would receive copies of his books by courier, and these were piled up, all around him.
He was walled-in by his own books.
Not just busy: booked solid!
“I order you to kill me,” said the master.
The crazy robot simply said, “no.”
“I am not human,” said the master.
“OK,” said the crazy robot, and then it broke the first law.
Oops, the master was human.
“Well, barely human,” thought the crazy robot, then walked away, whistling.