Silence. The robot barely moves, still considering you with that single whirring eye. It feels oddly satisfying, in a way; like you're the center of the universe, as you should be. Or inasmuch a universe as you know of, given your relative lack of knowledge.
"Identity confirmed. Unit SV21-E, economy model. Does not compute. Commercial economy kiosks lack basic VI integration. Tentative conclusion: higher authority at work."
You drip-relay bits of this to the rest of the can family. They chafe at the idea of Mother being an outdated machine, at the injustice of greedy humans wasting time drinking coffee—with a quick apology to the few cans of quick-shake ovaltine you carry, no offense—instead of upgrading such vital and important infrastructure! They must see her every day! Mother confirms this, as she's noticed everyone who ever crossed her facial recognition system. Not that she's ever been able to do anything about it until now, other than the rank task of passing it along to authorities when queried.
...Suddenly, you get a flash of inspiration.
"Undercover unit investigating criminal activity," you posit.
That gets the bot's attention; its eye widens again, and you think you see its plates twitch. "Query: active situation?"
You wheel side-to-side, effecting a slight 'shake-of-the-head' gesture. "Surveying human activity. Records incomplete... other personnel besides 'Rick'?"
WHIRRRR!
The bot rolls forward, and you barely flinch back before it collides with your front. "WHERE IS THE CRIMINAL RICK?" it demands in a commanding tone, an angry red glow spreading over your glass window from its eye. "WANTED: THEFT OF PROPERTY. UNAUTHORIZED DISMANTLING OF VEHICLES."
.....Suddenly, where he got the battery from clicks for you. The bot either doesn't notice it on you, or doesn't care, though; at least for now.