In the old city of Chicago, it was three a.m. Terror awoke the young boy, while in the other room, Gideon’s parents were in yet another heated argument, and these arguments usually became physical and if that wasn’t enough, the new robot domestic that his affluent parents had bought was having a melt down. He could hear crashing sounds, dishes being thrown and people screaming.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“I have no problem, In fact I am perfect sir. Just perfect,” the little robot said.”
“No one is perfect, least of all a piece of tin with an attitude.”
“Sir, I think you’ve had too much to drink. You should never hit your wife.”
“Who the hell are you to tell me what to do.”
“Quite right, sir, after all, I am only the highly modified domestic assistant, model 1220, the advanced model. Sir, may I ask what are you doing with that two by four.”
“I’m going to do a bit of redesigning my own.”
“Sir, I ask you to remember, I am incredibly expensive.”
“That is right, you were both expensive and perfect. Now you are just perfect junk It’s a good thing I am rich. "said the Gideon’s father, throwing something glass against the wall.
Just then, Gideon, picked up the telephone and began to dial 911, as he heard more loud crashing sounds like a wall being kicked in.
“Sir. Sir? Please put me down. Must I remind you that as a robot, I feel no pain. Oh, no, now you’ve broke my left sensor. Sir. If I was a human I would now be partially blind on the left side. Until and unless I am repaired, I feel quite sure I can’t drive Mrs. Guidry to the grocery tomorrow as she and I had planned..“