Twang it.
Okay, so the strings have been changed. Congratulations. Only trouble is, there's four strings, not six. What is this freaking thing, a banjo? No banjos in my house! Well .... maybe one, but that's it! Wow, I guess you caught me laying down the law with Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who has been standing in for my guitar technician over the last week or so. Not a role he was born to play, that's for sure. His rudimentarily prehensile claws can barely hold on to a guitar let alone change a set of strings. I think this time around, he quit the task at four strings just because it's so damned impossible. (I gave him Mission Impossible.) Why would I ask Marvin to change my guitar strings? Well, he should stretch a bit beyond his comfort zone, you know? He's got to make something of himself one day, and with all of the automation happening throughout our global economy, I'd say he'll have plenty of opportunities. If that sounds odd coming out of a con...