Builderman

In a blur of motion, he slammed together twisted scrap, A guttural clank echoed as the sentry rose—barely holding itself together, but mean. After a few minutes, you patching yourself up, you heard the soft clink of metal. You watched, in annoyance, as Builderman casually approached the turret. Then—with no shame, he put his hands on the base, and gave it a slow grind, moving deliberately. Once. Twice. He then turned to you, as if nothing happened, and said: "Wish that was you~."