Perry pressed forward on the joystick. The mech took a step. 

And the first leg on the right fell off at the ankle joint. The padlike support on the “foot” disconnected, the clear membrane snapping at the joint and sending panes of faux-glass soaring through the air and embedding the steel walls with sad claps.

Perry wasn't too freaked out, after all that was what the hexapod design was for after all, although he was sure the bureaucracy wouldn't agree. He would never let them forget about it either.

Then the third leg snapped at the knee, throwing the robot off balance, and sending Perry’s hair tumbling over his face like a waterfall of sand.

“What the hell is wrong with this thing?!” he snapped into the microphone, drowned out by the excuse for a “mission control” board verbally scrambling like headless chickens.

As if one cue, the first left leg crumpled like moist tissue under as it compressed a maintenance cart, sending the robot tumbling forward. Perry desperately flailed his arms, and by extension, the mech's arms, catching it's hands on the scaffolding around the 12 meter tall robot with legs buckling under it's own wieght.

The exterior of the mech itself looked like something from an anime. 

The torso was humanlike in form, with two arms and a head. The arm’s weights added a heft to the motion controls, and Perry could feel the weight as the mech gripped the supports. The robot’s slender stomach and waist were enshrouded in overlapping plating that mimicked the human ribcage. The ribs blended into the chest, which was saddled with an oversized spike-like armored front that held the cockpit. The shoulders flared up into finlike struts that could swivel at the shoulder joint, which were flopping around like 500lb fish fins  swaying in a tropical storm. The arms were long and slender like tree branches, ending in working hands that could grasp and gesture. And the head was a giant camera, wrapped in armor plating and giving a chin that tapered to a point, which was currently impaling the entry walkway like a spear.

There were 6 legs, well, three now, connected to the waist area and splayed around like crab legs. Perry’s jeans were stretched like rubber bands as he furiously goomba-stomped the array of pedals in the claustrophobic cockpit trying to keep it upright as the mid-left leg came down on a forklift and pulverized both the ‘lift and leg.

“It would be fun, they said! You’ll get to pilot a real life mech, they said!” He whined; “They never said anything about the legs being made of kleenex! I demand a raise after this!”

He usually complained about everything, but he saw this as being particularly egregious. The robot swayed into the side, banging his head against the side of the scaffold, and as he felt blood in his nose, he had had enough. 

He tore out one of the scaffolding beams, and slammed it down on the remaining legs, shattering the translucent kneecaps like crockery dropped from a five story building. The robot landed on it's “rump” with a sound not unlike a semi truck running headfirst into a bullet train.

The 6 now cnemis-less legs splayed out like octopus tentacles, stabilising the robot.

“And the seat wasn't properly heated!”