A half hour later the ad was coming out of the News-Facs machine in an excited staccato that matched Raymond's quickening pulse.
As soon as the ad was printed, he ripped it out of the receiver:
WILL TRADE MY CRAZY MIXED-UP ANDROID FOR YOURS.
Raymond grinned happily for the first time in days. "Ingenious."
The android said, "A complete, hopeless waste of human endeavor, sir. However, it is quite typical of your impulsive and somewhat obnoxious personality."
Raymond laughed. "Say anything you like, my vanishing servant. You are not long for my little world."
Thirty minutes later the automatic door-announcer sang out: "Visitor!"
Raymond set the door control on automatic. A tall, thin, haggard looking man entered and offered his moist hand in a feeble grip. "My name is Groober." He pointed weakly at the glistening android behind him. "This is George."
Raymond stared hopefully at George and said, "Our android was once fondly known as Francois, but we've since been unable to think of it as anything but It."
Mr. Groober sat down with a sigh, and said in a hoarse voice, "This idiotic robotic device has a chemurgical complex."