The Croft Mansion
'I do wish that Lady Croft would dress for dinner.' Sighed Hillary, as he shook his in disapproval. He had previously expressed his concern to Lara about her table manners. 'Bryce, have you set the table?'
'I sure have. Well, Marilyn has.' Replied Bryce; casting a proud look over to the twelve seated table in the aristocratic dining room.
'Who's Marilyn?' questioned Hillary.
Bryce strode over to the table and pointed out a six foot robot. Its metallic face was decorated with light touch make-up.
'Bryce, it's wearing make-up. Can I ask one simple question? Why?'
Bryce didn't't reply; he simply patted Marilyn's silver arm and smiled.
The two men looked up towards the giant staircase as Lara descended. Her dark, usually plaited hair was flowing down to her waist and her eyes wear slightly outlined in a dark smoky colour. She wore a vintage Chanel dress; the pure white garment clung tightly to her figure.
'Wow.' gasped Bryce. 'Can I show you to your seat?'
'Yes, if you wouldn't mind doing so.' Replied Lara; her husky voice lingering momentarily in the hallway.
As Lara entered the dining room, she happened to glance over to the shining robot. She slowly walked over to the statue-still Marilyn. With her index and middle finger she lightly brushed the robot's welded lips.
'What are you looking so nervous for?' whispered Hillary.
'It's her lipstick…Marilyn's wearing Lara's lipstick.' Bryce said through tightly gritted teeth.
Lara examined her fingers. 'Christine Dior. Soft pink…it really doesn't suit her skin tone.'
Bryce exhaled loudly in relief.
'I'd recommend a darker colour for her silver face Bryce.' She smiled.
Hillary laughed and began to pour the dark red wine into Lara's well-sculpted glass.
The next morning brought cold, harsh winds that rattled the archaic window panes. Lara was up early fixing the brakes on her fierce motorbike. She heard a loud bang, followed by an echoing rumble. 'For heaven's sake; it's six 'o' clock in the morning!'
'Oops! Sorry Lara!' shouted Bryce.
Lara rolled her eyes and continued to dirty her white T-Shirt with jet black oil.
'Lara! Lara, come quick! Marilyn's gone mad!' exclaimed a hysterical Bryce.
Lara jumped up from her bike and ran towards the commotion. She suddenly came face to face with the angry robot. It's sharp arms where flailing around and it's head was spinning 360 degrees on it's angular shoulders.
'I tried to disable her Lara. She just keeps disobeying me!'
'What's wrong with technology these days?' Lara said under her breath.
She drew out two pistols from their holsters and began to fire shots at Marilyn's head. It was no good. The hard metal refracted the speeding bullet and hit Bryce in his right foot.
'SH-' began Bryce.
'-Shut down!' barked Lara. Suddenly Marilyn stopped still; her head lolled to one side and her arms rested in a downwards position.
'Damn Bryce, be careful about what you decide to make in the future please. I have far too many enemies to be making another one.' Lara said calmly. 'Do me a favour and clean up this mess...by yourself.'
Bryce winced as he looked down at his foot. The bullet had skimmed his toes and simply grazed them. He held his foot in a comical position and began to blow pathetically at his red toes. 'Thanks Marilyn!' he shouted, furiously kicking the stationary robot in the 'shin' with his unhurt foot.
'Hillary, i'm going for a ride. If any mail comes for me, rip it up.' Lara instructed the half asleep butler. 'Oh, and tell the mail man not to bother bringing any junk. There's only so much the hounds can rip up.'
'I don't see what's wrong with the shredder.' Hillary said under his breath. 'Yes Lady Croft.'