Why should everyone have to eat the same thing, when a robot could create individual servings of whatever someone might want?“That would be a challenge.”“Where would we start?”One might think that such a question would relate to kicking off a new project. After years of working together, that wasn’t an issue. (Gantt Chart? Who needs a frikkin’ Gantt Chart?) They could skip a lot of steps that others would find essential. The whole question of where to start, was much more advanced than that.“How about ‘breakfast?’”“That makes sense. Start with the first meal of the day, and work towards a late night snack.”Having established what they meant by success, it was now a matter of collecting the necessary information to make it a reality.“Do you know how to cook?”“Not really. I can do scrambled eggs and pancakes. Do you?”“No.”“That’s a problem.”“Who do we know that knows how to cook?”“I don’t know.”“I know! Your mother!”“My mother hates robots.”“How about Otterly? She’s always making. A wild grunt rumbled out of his throat, low, deep and menacing. He took another pace forward, dropping lower to the ground and showing all his teeth. I tried to move to the kitchen’s door; but he suddenly approached me, herding me away from my escape door, towards the corner in the rear. I was beginning to panic.Refusing to be cornered I moved away towards the center of the floor. The dog let me do it. But he suddenly pushed me with his fore claws and knocked me down to the garage floor.I hit my head against the concrete and my vision became blurred. When it cleared again, I found the huge dog had straddled me, with his large fangs just inches above my throat. My bathrobe was open, leaving me naked and totally exposed. His huge red prick dragged back and forth across my bare stomach, making me shudder in both fear and exciting…I tried to scuttle away; but he took my throat in his teeth.I breathed with my eyes shut. I squeaked again, calling him a nice puppy. But he seemed to have.
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