I do not appreciate being poked and prodded by robots, even if it is apparently for my own health.
Oh dear. Is this the Medium Place? Am I doomed to a tacky singles cruise with under-cooked food in the dining room and loud tourists in horrible Hawaiian shirts? Because if that is the case, that's worst torture than anything Michael ever thought of himself when I was in the Bad Place.
What's even worse is having to hear bad covers of Jimmy Buffet at the karaoke bar, if that's also a thing.