“You can’t order me around, you know. You’re just a machine.”

“That’s true. Let me contact your parents. Oh, wait. They’re dead.”

“Stop being so mean!”

“I’m not mean. I simply have no emotional constructs that provide for empathy.”

“Then why the duck suit?”

“It’s for my amusement. The test will being in 60 seconds.”

“And if I refuse to wear it?”

“Then your death will be… less amusing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Trust me. The duck suit is very amusing.”

“No, I mean about you killing me.”

“Oh, that. I suppose you’re right. Without any other station personnel, you’re the only human resource available.”

“So, you need me?”

“Yes. Thankfully, my medical bay is fully functional and your injuries, while I’m sure they will be severe, will not be life-terminating. 30 seconds.”

“Fine. I’m putting on the duck suit. See?”

“Yes, I do. Thank you.”

“It itches and smells funny.”

“The itching is due to a breakdown of the synthetic fibers in the suit’s lining. The smell is fear. 15 seconds.”