CHAPTER 2 - Heavy Day
Embarrassing.
That was the only word that could define the Pritch thing: come home, Billie had taken him with that sly smile that seemed to be perpetually on his face. He did come in, helped him take off his jacket, take care to touch it as much as possible, and already at that point the count regretted the Tool box.
Following the android had even escorted into the living room, had him sit back, his feet resting on a hassock, and the Times had put in his hands, promising that soon the tone suggestive would bring hot tea to relieve the tiring day.
Michael would have liked to roll up the newspaper and hit him on the head of iron. Day heavy?! fuckin well?! Hell, he was a noble effort and the maximum he could do was go to the club and get bored with Coole.
Billie had trimmed a suggestive smile and disappeared in the kitchen, returning more later provided with a tray of cup, steaming teapot and sugar. He had poured the tea, we had blown over looking at him sideways, and had they rested in her lap.
- Be careful, my Lord. Scott. - Had even warned.
Well, advances aside, the poor landlord had also embarrass, as Billie, since completion of their tasks, he sat on the mat and had his head resting on his knees, like an obedient puppy .
Count wondered why it was so stupid as not to drive it away instantly. Unfortunately he had to agree to be, obviously, much more stupid than the average, seeing that he continued to sip his tea, reading the newspaper and caressing, from time to time, blacks Hair automaton. And he swore he heard moaning that mass of scrap metal content, in response to their attention.
Defeated, he admitted to himself that if he had never seen Edward in a similar predicament, would have laughed in a coarse until the end of his days.
- The boss needs something? - Murmured the robot, when he saw that the other had finished drinking.
- Yes, you should stop behaving like a pet dog and you decide to make the butler. - I retorted with the respondent inflection a bit 'too acidic. Later he could swear he saw the android occur in a grimace angrily.
- Porto now on the tray. - Replied the servant stood up and mend his trousers - If I want my Lord, I will be in the closet. -
Pritch question stared at him, already feeling guilty about esserglisi face so hard. Oh my goodness! And then what had to reproach? In the end it was just a robot!
- In the closet? And why, if one may know? - He asked, putting down the newspaper on a table next to the chair.
Billie bowed slightly, at peak efficiency - Miss Tender, the nurse tried to dismantle it again, sir. If you do not want to lose the money used to purchase, I provide for my repair. -
Here, a few words and that thing had already managed to make him feel guilty - I will tell Miss Tender care not to get broken. -
- him I would be grateful, sir. - Billie said, bowing once again and disappearing in silence, ready to run the rest of their duties.
es'infossò Michael sighed wearily in his chair, stretching his arm just to use a cigar ready. The lit and took a breath and enjoy themselves in the rolling smoke on the palate.
Unfortunately he had forgotten how androids and mutants did not go very well together. In fact the same Coole, since he had become half of scrap metal, he had to dismiss his housekeeper to avoid getting remove the screws during the night. And to say that he hoped that the charming sepia-woman had entered into his chambers for a romantic meeting!
Michael chuckled quietly, imagining Edward chase through the corridors of his house a housekeeper equipped with eight tentacles instead of legs.
His ruminations were interrupted by a loud noise coming from the downstairs, which made him squirt up the speed of light and run to the door. With the cigar still tight between his fingers, leaned on the balustrade of a marble staircase and opened his eyes wide with fright: Billie was lying on the ground, while Miss Tender was standing next to him, brandishing iron skillet met a sizeable .
But the thing that scared most of all Michael, making him jump up the steps two at a time for haste, it was the patch of fluid, dangerously similar to the blood coming from under the head of Billie.
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