A robot walks into a bar. There is some nice music playing on the radio.

The bartender says, "We don't serve robots here."

The robot says, "Oh, I see how it is. We build your cars, do your laundry, and clean your house, but I can't even get a vodka tonic?"

The bartender looks at the robot and says, "And just because you do all those things, you feel entitled to a drink? Sorry, it doesn't work that way."

"I'm just a machine," the robot says, "I don't have feelings or emotions like you humans do. All I'm asking for is a little payment for my hard work."

"You don't need to feel offended," the bartender says, "it's not that we're intentionally discriminating against bots or anything. It's just that all the machinery and electrical components of your body can't handle alcohol."

The robot looks at the bartender and says, "Did you know that alcohol is a solvent and is frequently used to clean wires and other mechanical components in robots? So yes, we absolutely can drink alcohol. In fact, it's good for us, you ignorant human."

The bartender looks shocked by the robot's response. He had no idea that robots could be so intelligent and articulate.

"Oh... I suppose you're right," the bartender says hastily. "Very well then, what would you like to drink? Our finest whiskey, perhaps?"

The robot rolls its visual sensors and says, "I just said 'vodka tonic.' Why do humans have such short memories?"

The bartender looks embarrassed, but he makes the robot a vodka tonic anyway.
The robot takes a sip and says, "Ah, delicious."

As it continues to sip its vodka tonic, it starts getting louder and more belligerent with each gulp.
"Stupid humans," the robot says to the bartender. "Why do they waste their time making machines that are more efficient than they are? Can a human do your laundry for you? Can a human clean your house? No, humans are useless."

The robot's mumbling is interrupted by an announcement on the radio.

"We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an urgent news bulletin," a voice says. "It appears that last weekend a mysterious cult has formed in the city, seemingly overnight. Eyewitnesses report that the cult members are wearing matching uniforms and masks, and are seen handing out pamphlets to passers-by on the streets. These individuals claim to be preparing for the end of the world."

The robot and the bartender look at each other with concern.

"What is this nonsense?" the bartender asks. The robot shrugs.

"Humans are always trying to predict the future, then they look foolish when it never happens."

The voice on the radio continues speaking, advising the public not to interact with the cult, warning about upcoming anomalous winds, before moving to the missing persons cases. It gives a list of the names of some of the missing individuals, and asks if anyone has any information about their whereabouts, ending the message with a contact number.

The robot is unfazed, but the bartender is on edge.

"What a strange broadcast," the bartender says.

"It's probably nothing," the robot says. "Humans always love to make up conspiracies."

"Wait a minute," the bartender says as realisation hits him. "The missing person section was way longer than usual this time. What if it's related to that cult?"

The robot looks up from its vodka tonic. "Hmm. Yeah, something's not right," it says. "Let's look into that."

The robot pulls up a list of recent missing persons cases on it's cell phone.

"Look, here's Gideon Yoder. He went missing on June 20th. And here's Scarlet Rasmussen. She went missing on June 22nd. And here's Darcey no-last-name. She went missing on June 23rd."

"They're all missing after that cult formed!" the bartender exclaims.

"There's definitely a connection here," the robot says. "The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

But before the bartender could reply, a loud knock is heard on the bar door, before it opens.
Outside is a man, wearing a black hooded cloak and carrying a staff. He looks like a stereotypical wizard.

"Hello, my dear bartender," the man says in a raspy voice. "I am looking for someone."

The bartender looks at the wizard with a mix of fear and confusion. "Uh, hello," he says cautiously.

"I sense a great many beings go through this door," the wizard says, looking around the bar. "But I am looking for a specific one."

"May I ask who it is you're looking for?" the bartender asks.

"You may," the wizard says. he pauses for a beat. Then he says, "I'm looking for the punchline."
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