The Servants

By J.R. Pestel

Madeline assumed she was purchasing robots. NEVER assume ANYTHING.

Madeline was rich and arrogant. She fired all her human servants. She saw an ad for "ServBots" and decided to purchase some to replace her human servants. All went well until one morning, her ServBot chef served her breakfast and one of her eggs had a broken yoke. It went downhill from there. Terribly downhill.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janine R. Pestel
• Release date: Nov 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781536507157

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The Servants

A Horror Short Story

J.R. Pestel

Copyright (C) 2017 Janine R. Pestel

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2017 Janine R. Pestel

Published 2017 by Janine R. Pestel

ISBN: 978-1980951520

Cover Design by: Janine R. Pestel

Cover Photo by: Ysbrand Cosijn / 123RF Stock Photos

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

The Servants

Madeline was trying to enjoy the ride in the back of her luxurious new Bentley, but she was growing more and more agitated with each little pot hole her driver hit. At long last she could stand this bouncing around no more. She was, after all, Madeline Vanderling who, after the passing of her beloved husband, took over total control of the vast Vanderling fortune. She was not to be treated this way by anyone. Especially someone the likes of Wallace, her chauffeur and servant. She leaned forward to make sure he could hear her as she screamed;

Wallace! Please! Why can't you go around the damned potholes in this God forsaken street? Are you trying to hit every single one?

I am sorry, and I do apologize, madam, Wallace said. I am trying not to hit any, but the road has so many it is impossible.

Well try harder. I am not to be bounced around like this. If my husband were still here with us, you wouldn't treat me like this.

Yes, madam. Like I said, I am trying madam.

Don't argue with me, Wallace. Just do it.

Yes, madam.

As though on cue, the car hit one of the largest bumps of the trip, which almost knocked her off her seat. She regained her composure, and whispered to herself;

I swear when we arrive back at the compound Wallace, you are through.

After what seemed an eternity to Madeline, the car at long last entered the