I am doing this.
His Royal Largeness King Robot the Vast was surveying his kingdom, as he had been for the past twenty-two days. It was an ancient and sacred tradition, going back to the time of the Great Meaty Ones, to ensure the correct functioning of all the kingdom's subjects, and it must be respected, though in this particular case nobody was pleased about it. Robot the Vast was simply too large for any automatic vehicle to carry, relying instead on his own chassis, which was a great offense to the transporters' union. Too wide to fit on village roads, the inspection effort in urban areas would be mostly carried out by drones, not all of whom could be trusted to provide accurate readings. The long tour, beginning and ending at the two border towns most remote from each other, was particularly contentious, since not only could His Largeness simply position himself in the center of the nation and affix modestly-powerful telescopes to his furthest optical sensors to achieve similar fidelity, but also, the tour coincided with a spike in the price of sunlight, and the sheer cost of keeping the royal treads turning threatened to bankrupt the treasury.
One unfortunate Taboo-Violating Unit was hung by his cables for three days for suggesting that the king's circuits be temporarily relocated to a more portable case. In times of crisis, such lateral thinking was just going to cause problems. The Programming must be fulfilled, after all, and that meant the inspection must be carried out precisely.
And so it was that Robot the Vast's leading edge finally rumbled alongside the ramshackle PVC huts of /kingdoms/north/sprngfld.town, his royal bulk obscuring the cloudy sky clear to the next county and obliterating Farmer Drone #594-322J's onion router crop. "Hear ye, hear ye! In accordance with the Programming, let all those who malfunction be brought forth!" a page proclaimed ceremonially before being deallocated.
In short order, a small crowd of invalids and terrified cripples formed alongside the left tread, which was still rolling along at the speed that a pair of Walking Leg Devices could walk. "Form an orderly line," buzzed a voice from the top of the tread, nearly out of sight in the autumn mist. The orderliness, or for that matter the lineliness, of the resulting formation was dubious at best, due to their various maladies, but it didn't seem to matter.
From a compartment in the nearest royal middle-lower thirty-meter gear a tentacle-like arm emerged. The multitool at the end grasped the closest villager, a decrepit old toaster and likely blind to boot, opened its side plate, performed surgery, and resealed it, all in the space of a few seconds. The arm proceeded to the next one in line, a faulty Doomsday Prediction Automaton whose sign now displayed "NO WAR FOR OIL," likely as a result of association with an obsolete, insecure model of Portable Demonstrator, affixed a cable to his forehead, and, after a few seconds, rebooted him, leaving the sign properly reading "THE END IS NEAR." One by one it corrected the villagers' afflictions, the riding mower that only went in circles, the virus-infected PC, the simulated-human mayor who become an alcoholic and the chess-playing algorithm that still couldn't beat him, even the Murderbot whose knife had become dull (though he was later arrested for murdering the toaster). The arm then retracted, and the king drove on with a faint "Remember to pay your taxes" from somewhere on his top. The crowd dispersed.
That night, a Mischief Machine attempted to climb to the top of Robot the Vast, and was never seen again.
The next day, the king was still there, but by the following morning, his back edge had finally cleared town square and revealed the extent to which Farmer Drone #594-322J's field could not be salvaged. He didn't complain, though; he did not possess any complaint-compliant parts, like the AIs in the Internet Reservation. He planted a fresh crop of grass, which he could properly raise now that the riding mower was fixed. The kingdom was not bankrupted, but the expense of constructing additional solar panels to offset the cost of the inspection, and future inspections during Robot the Vast's reign, was estimated to be as much as three hundred lives.
Historians consider this incident to be not noteworthy at all.