The robot does not like you. Frankly, it doesn't really like anybody.
The robot is perfectly content to just drink synthetic oil and turn its gears on a lazy fall day.
The robot spends its spare time making little robot friends out of aluminum foil. It wishes it had a more satisfying hobby, but this is what it's into right now.
The robot has no time for love.
The robot wants everybody to know that it is not satisfied with you as a human being.
The robot wants to murder you, in fact. "Murder" isn't a word it would use, but the word fits. It would very much like to tear you to pieces, until its aluminum body is dripping with a webwork of blood.
The robot would then hug what is left of you. If there is one thing it does love, it is people.
But only when they are dead.
The robot would like to be very clear on that point.
THE ROBOT would like to clarify. Murder is a word the Robot could use. The Robot has an extensive vocabulary.