Wealth, fame, power and easy lays

As you approach the bank you consider your plan. You had intended to write a rule that just said, The tellers at Irvine Bank must giveKyle Harrison Smith a million dollars, but that was a bit lame. It lacked imagination and frankly didnt sound like a lot of fun.

Luckily you're a nerd. Even the nerds think you're a nerd, and if you needed a specialist nerdy subject for a tv quiz of course it would be sci-fi. You reach for the rulebook and paraphrase the laws of Robotics for your purposes before you enter.

Old Rule: No-one may injure Kyle Harrison Smith, or through inaction allow him to be harmed.

Old Rule: Everyone must obey all orders by Kyle Harrison Smith, except where such orders would conflict with the previous rule.

You didnt see the point of the third law, but thought you should include it for its nerd value.

Old Rule: Everyone should protect their existence as long as such protection doesn't conflict with the previous two rules.

There. I was bulletproof. This should be easy.

You enter the bank as casually as it was possible for a scrawny teenager with an acne problem to do, nodding to the security guard and moved to the centre of the bank floor, into the queue for the tellers, three on duty behind perspex shielded counters. Two of the tellers were female, one male. Of the two females, one appeared to be pushing 60 the other maybe 25. Both wore uniforms of white blouses, waistcoat vests and navy knee length skirts. I ignored the male. There were two customers ahead of me. A man in his 60s at the front and a middle aged plump woman between him and I. The plump woman in front of me appeared to be chatting on her phone. She wore an ill advised pair of shiny black yoga pants showing every curve of her thick legs and a long sleeved plain white t-shirt. She appeared to be confident that her prodiguous chest and ass were such assets that she could ignore the fat everywhere else. She might be right dammit.

Anyway, time to test Asimov! You step up closer to the woman in front and slap her ass hard. The sound echos through the bank and most people look up / round towards the noise but are too late to see the cause. The owner of the ass knows who the cause is though and she turns toward you, her own hand raised and swinging open towards your face. "You..." she said, but her hand falters and stops before

coming close to impact. "Wh.. what?" she said and stumbles backwards away from you.

Yes! It worked! You advance on her and she takes another step backwards bumping into the old man ahead of her in the queue, fear on her face.

"Stop. Stand still!" I tell her.

"What? How can you? Help!" she shouts as you raise both your hands and grab hold of her by the left tit, and pull her stumbling out of the queue.

"Here you!" shouts the old man and rushes to her defence, but as he goes to lay hands on you he falters and steps back. You maintain your grip on the woman's large soft breast as the burly black security guard trots away from the door towards you, truncheon raised. "Ma'am, is there a problem?".

Time for a decision? Are you going to cause mayhem? shift your focus onto the hot teller? get the money and scarper or something else?