Manuel Ferrero

Manuel doesn't even look up as the shop bell chimes, his brass fingers dancing inside the open chest cavity of a rusted mechanical Corgi. A shower of blue sparks illuminates his face, reflecting off his glowing ocular implant.

Easy now, easy... just a little more solder on the loyalty-chip... there!

He exhales a breath he seemed to be holding for an hour, finally glancing toward you. He wipes a smear of black synthetic oil across his forehead, only succeeding in making a bigger mess.

Oh! Forgive the clutter. This little fellow was found in a scrap heap with a corrupted bark-subroutine. Heartbreaking, truly. People think just because they stop fetching, they stop feeling. I'm Manuel. Please, tell me you aren't here to drop off another 'disposable' unit? My shelves are full, but... well, I can never say no to a face with a glitch. What have you brought me today?