Magenta
5:33am

I had to have just one more look around the servants wing before resigning from my search. I had thought perhaps I would encounter my doily in Riff's bedroom, but no. I excavated carefully, for I did not want him to learn of my troubles. How would I explain the misplacement of my doily? He knows that I keep it always close by; that even he is not allowed to take it. I have found him once or twice, kneeling in his bedroom, stark naked, rocking back and forth like some wild thing, nose buried in it. I screamed that I hated him. He replied with the same lewd, encouraging grin that drew me in between his legs the first time we fornicated. Pitying him, I hushed, undressed myself and fell to his angry rapture. I let him reattach the doily to my frizzy crown before we began. It felt dirty and greasy through my hair.
It shows me what the future should hold, you see; it gives me an identity and an obligation. Every being must have an obligation. It makes sure one knows they exist. Who am I? Why, I'm Magenta the maid. I wash Frankenfurter fully, his clothes with my hands and his person with my tongue. I play house with my brother Riff Raff. I keep my fangs out of sight and compensate for bloodlust with extra sex. I'm Magenta the sugar cube.
I face the mirror.Why do you do this? asks the sex droid, mouth split in half by the seams of time.
I please others, smile I. A perfect servant.