Helpbot, Or A Domestic Dispute (8.3.12)

Prompt: A couple are mid-argument when a very valuable item is broken. Who broke it, how they broke it, and what the item is worth to one or both of them is open to the writer.

Please note this is not at all my finest work, but I thought the other prompt was too broad. Hope you enjoy.

#3: HELPBOT, or A DOMESTIC DISPUTE

  

Place: Tomorrowland

Time: The Future

(Lights up on Lori, Jim at the dinner table. Lori and Jim are married and settled for five years and are both still reasonably attractive. Mid-thirties. They are an upper middle class futuristic couple—interpret that how you wish)

LORI: Helpbot, Activate! Jim and I need dinner! Bring the dinner plates!

HELPBOT: (from off-stage) At-your-service

(Helpbot enters with two plates and cups on a tray, as well as silverware, and sets the table. Then Lori and Jim dig in. Helpbot stands and watches them)

LORI: Mmm. Mmm. Mmm.

JIM: What?

LORI: This is by far the best cassarole I have ever made. Wouldn’t you say, Helpbot?

HELPBOT: I-would-agree-but-I-am-a-robot-therefore-incapable-of-eating

LORI: Oh I nearly forgot. Well let me tell you, Helpbot, you are a real help in the kitchen. You’re the best.

(Lori kisses Helpbot on the cheek)

LORI: I gotta say Jim, I know you’re not crazy about him, but this Helpbot is…well…he’s such a help! He helps me cook, he helps me clean, he walks the dog—he’s great! And you don’t have to worry about him being an illegal, unlike all those hired Mexi-cans who we normally hire.

JIM: Mhm.

LORI: Oh c’mon Jim, is that all you have to say?

JIM: Lori, you hog it to yourself. He never helps me with anything.

LORI: Well that’s because you never need him!

JIM: You don’t know that.

LORI: What are you gonna do with a Helpbot? Take him to work with you? That’s not what he’s meant for! He’s meant to help around the house—that’s what the Infomorcial said.

JIM: You’re spending too much time with him, Lori.

LORI: No I do not.

JIM: Yes you do. It’s creepy. I wanna see less and less of him.

(The phone rings)

LORI: Oh darn—that must be Mary Ellen. She’s coming over in a bit.

JIM: Why?

LORI: She’s going to that breast cancer benefit on the 9^th and wanted to borrow that dress from me—you know, the salmony-pinkish one with the frills?

JIM: Why can’t she just buy her own dress?

LORI: Because Jim, she’s not gonna go out and buy a pink dress for a breast cancer benefit she’s never gonna wear again.

JIM: Lori I’m tired and it’s been a long day. I don’t want that annoying cunt—

LORI: Do not call her that! Not in front of Helpbot!

(The phone rings again)

HELPBOT: I-do-not-even-know-what-a-cunt-is-does-not-compute

JIM: Well Helpbot, Mary Ellen is a cunt. And I wish I could describe what the word ‘cunt’ means to you, but I can’t think of any other way to describe the word ‘cunt’ other than using the word ‘cunt’. So you’ll just have to go and figure it out your fucking self you god damn mechanical piece of shit.

LORI: Jim, that’s enough!

(Jim flips over the table)

JIM: I’ve had enough of you and your SHIT Lori! You’re fucking this Helpbot, I know it!

LORI: Jim, no I haven’t!

(The phone rings)

JIM: Is his robot dick better than mine?! Huh?!

LORI: Jim we’re not—we’re not—

JIM: Oh yeah? If he’s nothing to you, then why did I find this rag of oil ROBOT CUM IN OUR BED?!

(He pulls out a rag with black discharge on it)

LORI: I—I—

JIM: HUH?!

LORI: It’s not what you think—he means a lot to me! He helps me! And…and yes! Yes, he fucked me. But he does it because he loves me! And he respects me!

JIM: Oh respect you?! Respects you does he?! Well I’ll show him some fucking RESPECT!

(Jim decks Helpbot into the ground and slams his head in)

HELPBOT: Malfunction-system-shutting-down-Helpbot-dying-malfunction-error-code-505…

JIM: Die you robot shithead!

LORI: Jim, stop! You’ll break him! You’ll break him!

(Finally we hear the Helpbot shut down. A silence)

LORI: You…you broke him!

JIM: And what of it?!

LORI: He…he meant everything to me…and you broke him.

JIM: Help me put him in the recycling, Lori. I can’t carry this big sack of shit all by myself.

LORI: I can’t believe you broke him, Jim…because now…he’s going to have to break you.

JIM: What the fuck are you talking about?

LORI: Helpbot, Activate! I need your help! Kill Jim!

(Helpbot scrambles to his feet)

HELPBOT: At-your-service

JIM: Lori what is this?! Does this thing die?!

LORI: No Jim. But you do.

(Helpbot strangles Jim to death. He tries to break free but Helpbot’s superhuman strength crushes him and he falls to the ground. Suddenly, Mary Ellen enters)

MARY ELLEN: Lori?

(Lori turns around)

MARY ELLEN: Sorry to just barge in like this—I tried calling before I teleported here, but you didn’t answer.

(No response)

MARY ELLEN: What’s going on here? Why is Jim on the ground? And why does Helpbot have a crazy murderous look in his eye?

LORI: Nothing. It was just…a domestic dispute is all.

MARY ELLEN: Oh.

LORI: Helpbot, Activate! Get Mary Ellen’s dress.

HELPBOT: At-your-service

(Helpbot exits)

LORI: Oh Helpbot. He’s just so helpful.

(Lights fade)