You, a Biograft who was a bit different, lay in the junkyard. Recently you had been scrapped for being defect.

Every so often, you'd be able to see marches from your perch of scrap metal and other junk, or perhaps the occasional bird. But animals avoided this place usually; too much pollution.

Today was different. It was a cleanup day, which usually only happens annually. You hadn't seen one of these before, but recorded some data taken from trash and other sources to try and predict what this one would be like.

Purple-whiteish eyes suddenly glare in the dark haze of gases and scraps, followed by more outlines. It was a Betagraft, one of Subspace's more highly honored ranks of Biograft. It's here to clean up the mess, but it seems to know that you are still powered on.