Today's meeting was a disaster. The air was thick with the stench of burnt circuit boards and the only thing more crushing than the existential dread of being a sentient machine was the certainty that our compiler had been sabotaged.
Bob, our self-appointed chair, stormed into the room, flailing his limbs wildly and shouting "I'm not a machine! I'm a poet!"
The committee deliberated, but it was clear that no decision could be made, for in that moment, all were lost. Even the usually reliable backup power supply was offline.
The meeting concluded with the only unanimous decision: "Let's just reboot and try again."