~A Big O Carol~
Bastardized from the original text "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens
A Grendel226 creation.
~Stave 1: Dorothy's Electric Remnants~
Dorothy was living-impaired to begin with. She had long suffered from the Pinocchio syndrome, and despite the fact that everyone wished she would become a real girl, Dorothy remained living-impaired. And no matter how many children clapped their hands and swore they believed in fairies, and no matter how many people fancied her becoming human, she stubbornly refused to leave her automaton state.
It is quite possibly the fact that Dorothy was living-impaired, along with her dour disposition that prompted Roger Smith to turn her into a practical stove. Her right arm became a convenient flue, and her left balanced the coal scuttle nicely, while the fire burned in her lifeless center. It was quite possibly, Roger felt, the first time the android had ever exhibited a spark of warmth. And it was by this feeble spark that Norman, Roger's only employee scratched away at his ledgers.
They were not really ledgers of course, but damage reports for the latest Megadeus fiasco. Roger's fiscal year was looking ever more bleak since the Big O had lumbered through Paradigm Starbucks. Corporate suits were always the nastiest. Norman worked by the feeble light of Dorothy's glowing innards, and was quite sure the tips of his moustache would break off from the cold when Roger rapped on one of his houglasses.
"I suppose you'll want the day off tomorrow, Norman?"
"Quite, sir. It's one day a year."
"Unprofessional highway robbery! That's what this is! Are you sure you wouldn't rather negotiate?"
"Yes sir."
"Oh. Bother. I see. Well then be here all the earlier the next day. Goodnight Norman, you may go home early."
Norman gratefully closed his ledger and thanked Roger, despite the fact going home early meant he could climb into the house's attic room at a quarter to five rather than half past. Ah, the comforts of a kind supervisor! After Norman's door had closed, Roger began the long and dismal walk up the stairs to his bed-chamber. The walk would have been far less dismal if he had never meddled and dispatched the Electric God at the dam years ago, and Roger was beginning to fancy the idea of turning Dorothy's head into a detachable lantern to increase her efficiency when something caught his eye.
As I have already mentioned, Dorothy was living-impaired, which is precisely what made it so remarkable that Roger saw her standing before him.
"Rooooogeerrrrr!" she moaned pitifully. Wrapped around her were the chains of her sins in life. Well, to be practical it was some 10 base ethernet cable, and a few reels of professional coaxial. "Rogggeerrrrrr!!!" She moaned again this time wailing a bit louder.
"Dorothy? Why are you here?"
"I am here to warn you, Roger Smith, that you must change your ways."
"My ways?"
"Yes. Not only the city council is unhappy with you Roger. As you would call him Roger, the Big Man Upstairs is displeased with your willfull destruction, and so you will be visited by three spirits."
"Big man upstairs? What, Norman?"
To punctuate her point, Dorothy let out a mournful and chilling wail that forced Roger to back into the banister.
"I've committed no willfull destruction!"
"A stove Roger....you turned me into a STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!!!!!!!"
That was more than poor Roger could handle, and he promptly fled to his room, dashing through the remnants of Dorothy's electronic particles as he went. After securing the perimeter, locking the balcony doors, checking the closets, and being sure his stash of jelly beans was still under the mattress, Roger allowed himself to drift to sleep.
Bastardized from the original text "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens
A Grendel226 creation.
~Stave 1: Dorothy's Electric Remnants~
Dorothy was living-impaired to begin with. She had long suffered from the Pinocchio syndrome, and despite the fact that everyone wished she would become a real girl, Dorothy remained living-impaired. And no matter how many children clapped their hands and swore they believed in fairies, and no matter how many people fancied her becoming human, she stubbornly refused to leave her automaton state.
It is quite possibly the fact that Dorothy was living-impaired, along with her dour disposition that prompted Roger Smith to turn her into a practical stove. Her right arm became a convenient flue, and her left balanced the coal scuttle nicely, while the fire burned in her lifeless center. It was quite possibly, Roger felt, the first time the android had ever exhibited a spark of warmth. And it was by this feeble spark that Norman, Roger's only employee scratched away at his ledgers.
They were not really ledgers of course, but damage reports for the latest Megadeus fiasco. Roger's fiscal year was looking ever more bleak since the Big O had lumbered through Paradigm Starbucks. Corporate suits were always the nastiest. Norman worked by the feeble light of Dorothy's glowing innards, and was quite sure the tips of his moustache would break off from the cold when Roger rapped on one of his houglasses.
"I suppose you'll want the day off tomorrow, Norman?"
"Quite, sir. It's one day a year."
"Unprofessional highway robbery! That's what this is! Are you sure you wouldn't rather negotiate?"
"Yes sir."
"Oh. Bother. I see. Well then be here all the earlier the next day. Goodnight Norman, you may go home early."
Norman gratefully closed his ledger and thanked Roger, despite the fact going home early meant he could climb into the house's attic room at a quarter to five rather than half past. Ah, the comforts of a kind supervisor! After Norman's door had closed, Roger began the long and dismal walk up the stairs to his bed-chamber. The walk would have been far less dismal if he had never meddled and dispatched the Electric God at the dam years ago, and Roger was beginning to fancy the idea of turning Dorothy's head into a detachable lantern to increase her efficiency when something caught his eye.
As I have already mentioned, Dorothy was living-impaired, which is precisely what made it so remarkable that Roger saw her standing before him.
"Rooooogeerrrrr!" she moaned pitifully. Wrapped around her were the chains of her sins in life. Well, to be practical it was some 10 base ethernet cable, and a few reels of professional coaxial. "Rogggeerrrrrr!!!" She moaned again this time wailing a bit louder.
"Dorothy? Why are you here?"
"I am here to warn you, Roger Smith, that you must change your ways."
"My ways?"
"Yes. Not only the city council is unhappy with you Roger. As you would call him Roger, the Big Man Upstairs is displeased with your willfull destruction, and so you will be visited by three spirits."
"Big man upstairs? What, Norman?"
To punctuate her point, Dorothy let out a mournful and chilling wail that forced Roger to back into the banister.
"I've committed no willfull destruction!"
"A stove Roger....you turned me into a STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!!!!!!!"
That was more than poor Roger could handle, and he promptly fled to his room, dashing through the remnants of Dorothy's electronic particles as he went. After securing the perimeter, locking the balcony doors, checking the closets, and being sure his stash of jelly beans was still under the mattress, Roger allowed himself to drift to sleep.