“Stick Around, Henry”
- something tells me that I shall soon know
- drinking Beer® brand beer
- bedecked in neon and pleather
- used as an occasional base by murderous pirates
- begin to giggle audibly
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“Stick around, Henry,” I drawled. “This young lady needs our help.”
Henry dropped the armload of panties and bras and sidled closer, his spurs jingling. “Shouldn’t we just run for it? From what I just heard, she’s just a robot.”
A robot, yes. But not just a robot.
I stooped to start untying her left boot. “Get the other one. You know,” I said, “something tells me that I shall soon know if I’m quicker than a cowboy at taking off a bride’s fancy footwear.”
Henry bent to his assignment, sweat dripping from his forehead. “Not really. I’m an accountant.”
At that moment, the Tessabot’s reboot sequence completed. She smooshed down her frilly skirt to get a look at the men molesting her feet. “Henry!” she exclaimed. “I thought you’d be somewhere drinking Beer® brand beer until you forgot all about us. Then there’s you,” she addressed to me. “Why aren’t you bedecked in neon and pleather, limbering up your embouchure so you don’t sprain anything during the performance?”
“Hey,” Henry said, “you do look a lot like Jason. What are you doing in Brackish Bay?”
I held a finger up to my lips. Having the bot confused about my identity could give me an advantage. But I was glad he’d blurted out where I was, even if it meant I would have to find my way home from a remote island used as an occasional base by murderous pirates.
At last the boots were unlaced, and Tessa helpfully stepped out of them. The stockings were made of ornate lace with gaps through which I could inspect her toes. As I searched for the override buttons said to be between the cute little digits, I heard the Tessabot begin to giggle audibly.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “This self-destruct mechanism seems rather ticklish.”
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