The SAG

"I really hate the alarm you're programmed with," I said, rubbing my sore forehead. "Was it really necessary to bounce on my face until I wake up?"

My SAG, or Swiss Army Gadget, bobbed up and down, presumably based on magnetic shifts in the Earth. I didn't really understand the science behind it. Or maybe it was nodding. "It was the only surefire way to awaken you, Mistress," it said in its cool robotic male voice. "You are dead to the world in your sleep. Noise doesn't do it. Dousing you with cold water doesn't do it. Only blunt force trauma."

I scowled at it. "Well, fine. Hopefully I have some concealer that will hide the inevitable bruises. Are you programmed to treat concussions as well?" Without waiting for an answer, I pointed at the time on its display. "Isn't it time to feed the dog?"

It whizzed out of the room without a response. Groaning, I stretched and pulled myself out of bed. Shuffling into the bathroom, I did my business and got myself ready for the day.

By the time I got back out, the SAG was hovering next to the TV, having already turned it on. My Facebook page was pulled up and wirelessly transferred to the TV screen. I rolled my eyes.

"I don't have time to go through Facebook, I have to be at work in ten minutes!"

It obediently shut the TV down and opened its display wide. I stood still and waited while it hovered over my head, and then dropped down suddenly, completely encasing my body.

It wasn't quite teleporting in the traditional sense, as it wasn't actually instantaneous, as much as it felt like it was. Without my awareness, my SAG was now holding a digital imprint of me in its code, and was currently exiting the house to zoom to my office.

Nine minutes, or an instant, later, my SAG rose from the floor by my desk, copying my body from its digital form back onto the physical plane.

"Cutting it a little close, aren't we?" I muttered, glancing at the time on its display again.

"Perhaps next time you will awaken after only one blow to the head instead of fifteen," the SAG answered coolly.

---

Well, it took me a while, but I'm back with another one. I'm feeling a bit more myself again, and with my newfound energy, more creations will come forth. In the coming months, keep an eye out for a link to a Harry Potter fanfiction I've got in the works.

Thanks to Thomas, Laura, Nayari, Frederich, Bobby, Jennifer, Chuck, Joel, James, Jeri, Karen, Christopher, and Richard for the suggestions. We can't be giving the robots too many abilities though, cause that's how you get Skynet, or the Matrix, or whatever other robot apocalypse you can think of.

For next week, pick a number between 9 and 12. Only four options. Whichever number gets the most votes wins. Submit your answer in the comments below, and please subscribe!