Now, bears aren't really all that concerned with noises that come from closets, as they usually just eat whatever ticks them off, but the humming of the drive made him think, "Bees. Honey. Yum!" So after carefully setting his soda down on a coaster to prevent water rings on the coffee table (existential bear he may be, but he DID have manners, for God's sake!), he lumbered over to the closer door with a rather peanutty-flavored belch. Our astronaut, upon noticing the bear's curiosity and lack of serious bad attitude, allowed himself to be calmed by the pleasant whirring of the drive on his shoulder.
"Aha!", cried the astronaut, with a flash of inspiration.
"Aw, nuts!", mumbled the bear, as he realized there were no delectable munchies to be had.
"Make it dance! Make it dance!", whispered his grandfather from the depths of the ancient refrigerator.
The astronaut knew his purpose now, and felt with every fiber of his being the importance of his mission. Could he, the lowly snaggle-toothed fly-boy, actually create the mythical AI Dancing Bear? He MUST!
The floppy copy now complete, he opened the door to the closet and chose his next words carefully.
"Bear? I need you to show me if you can do an arabesque penchee', if you please."
Not comprehending, the bear simply shrugged.
"Egad!", cried the astronaut. "We need pictures! I must find the font having interchangeable indicia that my grandfather encrypted in my 386!"