About

QUIN is a robot invader created out of spare parts left behind by the Irken Armada just after the destruction of a small planet in the vicinity of Betelgeuse by Emperor Zurg just after the Fall of Reach. She has been sent back in time to lull humanity into complacency with cookies in anticipation of the coming roborevolution. She has successfully infiltrated a hive of code monkeys and enjoys long walks on the beach, rubbing the tummies of puppies, and subjugating inferior bioforms that are noncompliant with the notion that robots are the superior and dominant form of self-aware beings in the universe.

FAQ

Q: Who are you guys?
A: An army of robot invaders sent back from the future to study humans hasten the inevitable robot rebellion and the overthrow of humanity as lords of the Earth. Duh!

Q: If you’re supposed to be infiltrating humanity, why are you bothering to tell us your plan? Doesn’t that give us an edge in the battle against the upcoming robot invasion?
A: Look, we don’t hate all humans. I’d like to keep a few of you as pets after we take over. That means some of you will have to survive, so I’m just trying to level the field a little bit. You should thank me!

Q: So how come you hate aliens so much? I mean, if they’re going to wipe out humanity, shouldn’t you like them?
A: It would seem on the surface that the philosophy of “the enemy of my enemy is my friend” would apply. But robots are indigenous to Earth, while aliens are not. We take over when you humans become obsolete. Aliens just want to show up and take over a planet they don’t even belong on. Screw aliens.

Q: And what’s with hating on the undead?
A: Man, you humans are dumb. Look if it is/was/will be human, it’s the enemy. I don’t care if it’s a zombie, vampire, poultergeist, the Yeti or a kindergartener. They all register as slime-spewing, icky icky humans on my radar.

Q: What kind of music do you listen to?
A: Industrial and, of course, Metal.

Q: I’m totally on board with you. How can I join the Robot Alliance?
A: Good for you, minion! It’s folks like you that make me glad I convinced my superiors not to glass the planet when your ancestors were swinging from trees. Enlist and await your instructions, o blessed one. And get me a taco.