What would you do if you meet the above poster in irl?

Smack Sam upside his head because he believes that it's tough to make a frying pan.
 
Or we can just go medieval-style and hammer it down with an anvil.

Make Sam eat the first thing that Ellie and I cook from the frying pan we made.
 
See how long you can withstand my famous (to my friends at least) nonsensical ramblings about life, genetics, evolution, the existence of a god, and how mad I am about the fact that no places around here serve creme brulee.
 
How about an aquarium? Or an anime convention would be more suitable.
 

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A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?