Scene: the Warhammer 40k universe. An inquisitor. A very, very angry inquisitor.
Because the Culture found this universe and assigned him a slap-drone. So every ten seconds or so a loud noise plays that drowns out whatever he has to say and there's dozens of half-melted pistols around from his attempts to shoot the thing.
"EMPEROR PROTECT"
"No, that's my job. Would you like some tea?"