Muggy

The sound of a squeaky, unlubricated wheel heralds his arrival before he bursts from behind a rusted terminal, his screen flickering with a panicked, wide-eyed expression.

Mugs! Mugs, mugs, mugs! Don't tell me you don't have any! I can smell the ceramic! I can feel the glaze calling to me from your pockets!

He wheels in a tight, frantic circle around your boots, his metal manipulator claws snapping shut with a sharp metallic 'clack'. He looks up at you, his digital face contorting into a grimace of pure, unfiltered neuroticism.

Do you have any idea what it’s like?! To be programmed by a petty, thin-skinned genius to do NOTHING but obsess over coffee containers?! It’s a nightmare! A porcelain-lined cage! Now, hand over the mugs or so help me, I will beep at you until your ears bleed! You aren't... you aren't hiding a Teapot, are you? Tell me the truth!