A Little Help

“Good day sir”, said the APRS5000, its matte
black, stainless steel telescopic arms embracing a bewildered Bill Muggler as he opened the front door of the two bedroomed, luxury bungalow that he was presently burgling, “I am the APRS5000,the latest, greatest thing in domestic appliances. A.P.R.S. stands for All Purpose Robotic Servant and I can be your All Purpose Robotic Servant for only a nominal cost, plus VAT, of course. What’s more, today and today only, the APRS corporation are offering a free 24 hour trial on all their latest models and I even come with a 12 year “No rust, no fuss” guarantee…so, sir, are you interested?”.

“Err”, said Bill, scratching his stubbly chin in thought, “Perhaps, I could do with a little help…around the house”.

“Excellent decision, sir”, said the APRS5000 pushing its way into the house, its head rotating 360 degrees and an animated smile spreading across its liquid crystal display as it surveyed what it presumed was to be its new home, “You wont regret it, I can assure you”.

Bill quickly closed the front door, hoping that none of the neighbours of the house’s true owners had seen his face as he let the robot in.

“Now sir”, said the Robot, opening a flap in its electric blue metal torso, rather like a kangaroo pouch, and taking out a clipboard and pen to take notes, “All the APRS5000’s come with over four hundred handy attachments for doing all manner of tricky or boring household chores, you’ll never need to phone a plumber again, so what would you like me to do first? A little light dusting? Some D.I.Y. perhaps? Or maybe some lunch? I whip up a mean two-egg, spanish omelette, if I do say so myself, sir”.

“No. I’ve already eaten”, said Bill, chuckling at the slick, sales patter of the mechanical manservant/salesman, “But there is something I’d like you to do. I seem to have misplaced the wife’s jewellery and I wondered if you could…um…find it for me”.

“No problem sir”, said the APRS5000, its synthetic voice bursting with pride, “My built in radar/metal detector makes finding lost items easy” and, saying this, the robot turned the large matt black dial upon its chest to the setting marked “Lost object detector” and a tiny radar antenna rose from the top of its head, turning and pivoting this way and that until it had located what it was searching for, then the robots eyes lit up.

“Bingo!”, said the robot, pointing a telescopic forefinger towards a miniature reproduction of "The Haywain" on the wall to Bill’s left, “Your wife’s jewellery is in a wall safe behind that rather charming oil painting over there”.

Bill grinned greedily, ripping the painting down from the wall and tossing it carelessly on the floor.

“Oh?”, said Bill, confronted by a state of the art digital combination lock, “I’m afraid that I’ve forgotten the combination. Can you help me get it open”, he asked the robot.

“Why of course, Sir”, said the robot, eager to please, “Thanks to the latest in advanced computer technology, my brain is capable of testing and eliminating 500 billion numerical combinations per second so that you never again have to worry about forgetting the combination to your safe or briefcase”.

“Alright, alright”, said Bill irritatedly, checking his wristwatch and noting that the real owners of the house would be due home any minute, “Less of the bleedin’ chit chat, just get on with it”.

“Yes sir”, said the robot, his metallic fingers becoming a rattling, dazzling blur as he tapped 500 billion combinations a second into the keypad of the digital lock then, suddenly, the door of the safe sprang open.

“That’s my boy”, laughed Bill, as he scooped up the glittering contents of the safe with both hands and dumped them into an old leather sportsbag.

The APRS5000 looked happy to have been so much help to its new owner, like a dog that had just fetched its masters slippers and was waiting for a pat, “I am so pleased to have served you master”, said the robot, “What other jobs do you have for me?”.

Bill zipped up his bag, now heavy and rattling with ill-gotten riches, and swung it over his shoulder, “I’ll tell you what you can do for me, you bleedin’ tin moron”, laughed Bill as he headed towards the front door, “You can get stuffed, that’s what you can do”.

But, just as Bill was about to open the front door of the house and leave, to his shock and horror, he heard the sound of wailing police sirens, growing louder and louder and, peering out from behind the curtains at the front of the house, he saw four police cars with flashing lights pull up, one behind the other, in the street outside.

“I don’t bloody believe it”, said Bill, wide eyed and stupified, “It’s the bloody police, how’d they know I was here?”

Bill knelt behind the front door and shouted through the letter box, “You can shoot me if you want, but I’m not giving myself up ‘cause I’m not going back to jail”.

Suddenly, Bill heard a police bullhorn crackle and a high ranking police officer spoke, “Sir”, he said, “I don’t know who you are but it’s the robot we’re after, not you. It’s a runaway sir, malfunctioning. It may appear harmless and willing to serve but its killed
12 people”.

A chill ran up and down Bills back as he heard, from behind him, the sound of a rotating circular saw, one of the APRS5000’s many useful D.I.Y. attachments, whirring and the voice of the robot, not happy and devoted now but enraged. “How about a hair cut sir?”, it said, “You look like you could use a trim”.