FYOP/Scenario Chamber/A Night at the Opera/0255
Your lips meet and you feel the attendant writhe in your arms, her grip drawing you closer as her body begins to hum. Electricity stings your mouth as she presses firmly against you, the feel of her soft breasts growing hotter against your chest, your fingers tingling as the droid is overloaded from your contact.
A series of internal pops inform of her imminent malfunction, yet neither of you break from the embrace, your hand taking a firm grip of her plush backside and pulling her closer still. She gasps from under your lips, her body twitching as her components flare with heat, failures cascading throughout her system.
With a final plaintive sigh and a sharp crack of electricity, the droid’s body freezes in your arms. A moment later, she falls to pieces, limbs and machinery hitting the stage until you are only left with a head with vacantly staring eyes and smoking, pursed lips, and an upper torso, cables and wires leading from it to the parts that have fallen away. You set her down and turn to see Pamina watching neither you nor the disintegration of the last of the Queen’s attendants, but rather the perils of the pit below. Reaching out your hand, you lead her to the far side, cautiously stepping over the pieces of the broken attendant.