The Rise Of The Machines
Me: Printer, please express yourself by rendering on paper this document of mine I carefully elaborated.
Printer: [dramatic silence]
Computer: Printer not found
Me: Fuck [cancels document]
Printer: OK, but let me first blot three pages of half-baked, screwed-up garbage and jam on the fourth
Me: I hope you choke on that fucking sheet and die in horrible agony. No! No! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't do that!
Printer (to computer): What a wimpy fucker