Marty stood in Aisle 3, seething, his eyes flashing yellow in impotent rage, for he had no arms and could only grimly warn passersby of the danger that lay in front of him, a dropped package of fruit rollups.
This was in the Dedham Stop & Shop tonight. Marty just glumly kept muttering "Danger!" and "Peligro!" as a robo-lady on the PA kept declaring "Cleanup in Aisle 3!" until, finally, somebody went there and ordered Marty into his corner at the front of the store so he could recharge and reconsider his existence or something (and, presumably, then bent down and picked up the fruit rollups).