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?"