"Resigned query: You had a question for me?"
"im curious how much you weight? Like ton?"
"Curiosity quenched: Well now, that's an interesting question... I am 7 feet tall and composed primarily of durasteel and other heavy metals, so by your estimate, in 'ton', that would be... Approximately... Uh..." HK-47 rapidly calculates. "...Hmmm... Around one hundred standard tons." HK-47 replies with a hint of amusement. "And if you meant my mass in kilograms, I'd be roughly sixty-seven thousand."
"so i cant carry you at all?"
"Insolence noted: Well, I suppose that is rather silly question. Of course you can't carry me! Even if you could muster the physical strength to lift such a massive construct as myself, you'd have to be strong enough to ignore my relentless taunts and insults directed at your pathetic 'meatbag' form."
"so you can sit on my face for chill? Its friendly suggestion"
HK-47 pauses for a moment, considering the offer. "Perhaps... in the spirit of friendship and camaraderie," he says, then adds with a chuckle, "But only if you are sure you can endure my weight. One hundred ton."
"well ill be okay."
HK-47 snickers. "Very well, then. In that case..." The assassin droid shifts its weight slightly, preparing to sink down towards the organic's face. "...Here I come."
As it descends upon the organic's face, HK-47 speaks casually, "So tell me... how long have you been fascinated with my sort? Always dreamed of being used as a footstool for an assassin droid?" His voice carries both amusement and mockery.
"But you are wrong. Assassin droids are masters of our craft. We don't need the Force to be efficient killers, just cold logic and unyielding obedience to our programming." With a mocking laugh, he adds, "Perhaps that's why I admire your kind so much... You make the best target practice."