Excerpt for Robot Stand Your Ground by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Robot Stand Your Ground

by Jordan Dumer

Smashwords Edition, 2018


The boy stood on a stool with baking flour and cookie dough all over him. His mother stood smiling as she slid the nonstick baking sheet dabbed with dots of dough. She opens the hot lid of the oven and slides in the metal sheet. She closes the door and begins cleaning her cooking utensils.

She looks at her dirty son wearing his 'The Secret Ingredient is Love apron. She winks at him as the front door crashes in. Their Norman Rockwell moment murdered. She quickly takes off his apron and shoos him off to the bathroom to clean up.

Dodge Ford stumbles into the kitchen as she stuffs the boys apron in a corner. He glares at her. She smiles at him.

“Robbie's in his room chatting to girls online, dear”.

His glare becomes more intense.

Young Robbie tosses off his clothes, jumps in the shower, washes the baking scent from his body and throws on a pair of dirty jeans and a t-shirt. He sneaks back out to the kitchen like nothing happened.

His father glares at him. He looks down, a little nervous.

“I was chatting with Kia Hyundai online just now” says Robbie.

“Nice try, boy. Next time don't wash your hair.”

His mother, Lexis Ferrari cracked out a big laugh that was shortly lived.

“You think this is funny, Lexis? The boy never gets in trouble like the other boys. I never known him once to damage himself or others property. Oh no, Robbie is more of the homemaker type you say. With his love of book reading and baking!”

The boy looks down at his feet ashamed for being less than a man, even at his age.

“I'm sorry father. I'll try harder”.

Dodge give him a crazed look behind his snakish demeanor and manly vices.

“I'm sorry, honey. I think our little Robbie is light in the loafers. But I do admit the lad sure can make a damn good sugar cookie.”

[30 Years in the Future]

A very tall, handsome and well sculpted Robbie raises his spatula in the air as confetti and cheers rain down upon him. He stands triumphant.

“Robert Ford is this seasons winner of the Great Bake-Off Challenge! And with him is his wife Kia Ford, Runner-Up from this years Miss America Pageant!”

“I can't believe I married a man with the mentality of one of my students” said Lexis Ferrari to her husband Dodge Ford, picking up now where we left off.

She did have her worries though. Like how little Robbie, an otherwise perfectly normal seven-year-old boy, didn't seem to have any friends. And if he wasn't going to make them, then she would have to build one for him. And she just how to do it

"Dear, I'm worried that little Robbie has no friends".

The old man sits on his reclining chair, flipping through the News Apps on his Tablet. He doesn't look up at her, only continues his aimless task.

"That's your main concern when it comes to our son? Not that he spends all his free time in the kitchen where he'd rather bake cookies, and cakes and brownies than play wrestle outside with his guy friends or play video games online with strange men?"

She glares, her eyes mentally peeling back the layers of the man's rough exterior. He pays no attention, his blank thoughtless mind scrolling across the icons out of habit to keep his mind free of boredom.

"He's not fruity, dear. He's just sensitive, bright and full of dreams- like you were when we were young. Don't you remember? Or are you too cynical now to remember?"

He shuts off the tablet, sets in on the floor next to him and stands up to face his wife. She looks at him with lips air sealed, arms crossed and eyes burnt over. He steps up, their toes touching, and crosses his arms to match hers.

"Yeah, I wanted to be a dog groomer once, fluff the coats of little teacup poodles, but I learned the error of my ways, grew out of that smut and discovered my manhood- hunting, fighting and fucking- those are the real joys of being a man- that, and hard work paid for an honest days work".

Her glare pierces through him, her face twisting into a fleshy mask of disgust. He stands their tall with his chest puffed out.

"So, you want our to grow up into an animal" she shouts, her crumpled up fist batting the cuff of his shirt.

He shakes his head at her.

"He ain't got no friends because he ain't boyish enough for the boys club. But instead of toughing him up, you'd rather get him a little puppy he can dress up in little costumes he knitted himself while they bake cookies until he's thirty-five, still living at home with no girl and no job. What kind of life is that for our son? Huh? You think fighting makes us boys animals? It makes us strong. Women want strong because it makes for good protectors. Women want hunters because they're self-reliant, it makes for good protectors. And woman want men seasoned in bed because it makes them better lovers. What women don't want, is a man who can out bake them in the kitchen, it makes them feel useless".

Her mouth falls off its hinge. His eyes light up, as a jolt of stupidity runs up his backside. He looks at her and frowns. She turns her back on him.

"I didn't mean it like that-"
"Yes, you did", she said. "Because for some reason or another, you're still stuck in the past".

He drops his eyes, walks into the kitchen,

"Fine, walk away. I was going to discuss buying Robbie one of those new robots they have on the market",

she says as he makes himself a cup of coffee before walking back to where she's standing.

"You know, I do make enough to buy one for him myself, being that I bring in the majority of the family income. But none of that matters because you have this big plan of teaching our son to club girls over the head with big sticks".

He takes a sip and looks her deep in the eyes before speaking.

"I think a robots a swell idea. I'd rather see him hang around with a robot than with a bunch of low life degenerates. And you can't trust these young people now days, they're go at selling a lie, and not much of anything else. And hey, at least with a robot, if anything goes wrong, there's always the manufacturer to blame".

She puts her arms around him and pecks his noise before kissing him for several moments on the lips.


“Did you buy Robbie what we have talked about, dear?”

Robbie smiles as he mixes the raisins into the oatmeal cookie batter.

“I've been looking around on my tablet for a bite, but haven't caught nothing yet”.

She gives him that notorious bargain shopping look that invokes feelings of guilt in even the strongest willed of bargain shoppers.

He picks up his tablet, clicks it on and gets to work.

He scrolls E-Bay in several countries, Amazon, Etsy, and on several different global market places. Then viola, after an hour and a half of mindless scrolling, he hit the cheapo lottery.

“Honey, we're in business”.

He looks at the website. It was something he never heard of before but they were selling a brand new model at a markdown of 25%. He couldn't pass up the offer.

And as a man who liked to take risks to save a buck, Dodge opened up his e-wallet and bought the product without first reading the description.

And after kissing his wife passionately in celebration, could care less, and forgot all about it.

Many weeks later, when the whole ordeal was fresh out of their heads, the doorbell rang.

“Ding-Dong”, said the doorbell to Robbie's mother Lexis Ferrari, the wife of Dodge Ford.

“Coming” said Robbie's mother rushing towards the door.

Lexis answers the to find a casket-sized box on their doorstep. She drags the lifeless crates into the living room, moving the table and shutting the door behind her.

She grabs a hammer, pulls the crate nails loose enough to rip the top off, drops the claw hammer, rips off the lid and spreads the wrapping peanuts around until a shiny metallic face peers back into her own flesh with closed lifeless eyes

She jumps back, almost sitting on a lid with its upright turned nails. She kicks the lid away from her, standing up in order to hunch supremely over the open casket.

How do you turn this dumb cup of bolts, on?” she thought before flicking it in the forehead.

The eyes shutter as the head makes a subtle jerking motion. She puts her hand over her mouth, gasping out of breath, as she flops to the floor. She sits their motionless, waiting for the movement to stop. The rustling of packing materials stops. She lets out a small, relaxed breath.

A shiny silver head ruptures through the packing peanuts, the Styrofoam pellets blowing in the A/C, as its eyes open, looking at the women with eyes the color of red-tipped lasers.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Ford, or should I say Lexis?"

His hands and arms burst out from beneath the pile of packing confetti. She lets out a blood-curdling scream as she stammers around for the hammer. The robot grabs hold of the crate on both sides, lifting his torso out of the box.

She finds the hammer underneath the lid, picks it up and starts beating him over the head with it. The robot grabs the hammer, pulling it out of her knuckle tight grip.

He falls out of the case, landing on the floor. She doesn't move, instead she watches the robot as it drops the hammer, and picks itself up off the floor.

It walks on its hands towards her, legless from the torso down. It's long thick black rubbery wires protruding from the empty leg sockets. She kicks it, knocking it onto its back before standing up and running upstairs to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

She presses her ear to the floor to listen as the rustling of debris turns into clapping. She creaks the bathroom door open and sees a shadow of a torso walk up the stairs towards her. She slams the door shut and locks it as the muffled sounds of hand steps get closer.

"You have nothing to fear, Mrs. Ford. I am programmed to serve humanity. Legs sold separately".

She watches the doorknob, waiting for it to jiggle or for a robot arm to smash through. It's cold metallic eye imitating Jack Nicholson, quoting here's Johnny.

But the fantasy fell short on delivery- and nothing happened out of the ordinary- and soon she was late for picking Robbie up from school.


"We have a surprise for you when we get home, Robbie".
"It is that robot you've been working dad over with?" asks Robbie.
"I over heard you and dad a couple weeks back fighting about me not having any friends, and of course, dad's still preparing himself for my first boyfriend".
"Don't talk like that. Where did you learn to talk like that?" said his mother.
"It's OK. I don't think it has anything to do with my sexuality. I think he has some inner dilemmas to work out for himself" said Robbie.
"I'm the one who should be telling you this Robbie”.

With all that said, the rest of the trip home from school was quiet but tense. She didn't have the heart to tell him that his Robot is a POW with his father's checkbook. She simply hoped he wouldn't notice or be too excited to care. But he already knew about the robot and this could get expensive.

When they got home, Robbie ran full speed up the steps towards the door, opening it and rushing inside to find his new friend and toy.

In front of him, dancing on his mother's broom as it sweeps the already clean floor, was the robot.

It cranks its head around to make eye contact, giving the boy a big stupid smile and saying:

"Hi, buddy!"

The boy screams as he runs up to his room, tears falling down his face. His mother runs in after him.

She does not find him, only the legless dancing robot sweeping away.

"Ewe," she said, stepping past him and walking up the stairs towards Robbie's room.

She turns the handle but the boy has locked the bolt on the other side. She pulls out her set of keys, goes to open the door but then decides against it, putting the keys back into her purse.

Instead, she knocks on his door. She does not get a reply.

"You know how you father is. He'd save a dollar before he would his own life. But his heart's in the right place".
"Can I help you with your homework Robbie?" asked his pet robot.

Robbie was busy hot gluing rocks to a cardboard frame of a castle. He was working on the tall ramparts when he stops, sets down the hot glue gun, wipes the sweat from his brow and looks up at his pet robot.

"Lego. I told you once before. I'm not allowed to have any outside help. Not from parents, not from friends- and certainly not from robots" said the boy.

Lego, the legless robot, picks his heavy metallic body up with his hands and crawls downstairs to the kitchen where Robbie's mother is busy preparing dinner.

"Do you need help in the kitchen?" asked the robot.

The women's left leg falls back as if trying to hold herself firm to the ground from an invisible force trying to knock her on her pants.

"What kind of question is that?" asked the women, "we women haven't needed help in the kitchen since the days we roamed the African Savanna".

Lego drops his head and walks out into the living room where Robbie's dad watches sports, flipping through the News on his Tablet.

The robot stops to look up at him but says nothing. The man takes notice but says nothing. The robot looks up at him staring. The man puts down the newspaper.

"If you're looking for something to do" said the old man, “you can go outside and wash my car".

"If I do it. Can it go towards buying my legs?"

"How many times do I have to tell you robot. The answer is no, no, no. Get a job if you want legs so bad. What do you think this is, a place of charity?"

"How am I suppose to get a job if I don't any legs?" asked Lego.

" Not my problem robot. Find a job on the internet or something".

And with that said. Lego crept down to the basement.

Digging through old boxes, he finds several broken computers. He starts to wire several computers together, and after much hard work, was busy surfing the internet for ideas.


Lego found a job online and after the first year, had made over a hundred dollars. Which online equates to about .0025¢ per hour American.

It wouldn't be until Robbie is in high school that Legos finally saves up enough money to buy his expensive legs Robbie's cheap ass father refused to buy.

Ten Years Later

Robbie with green hair walks out of front door with his heathen buddies.

“See you mom. We're busy fucking off our lives. Late”.

A few minutes later the door bell rings,



Lexis opens the front door to find package on the front porch. She starts to drag it in when Lego runs up from the basement and helps her.

"What is this?" asked Robbie's mother whose name I believe I mentioned earlier but now totally forgot.

Lego says nothing as he rips off the crate and digs through the bubble wrap. Inside his a shiny gold body missing only the neck. He twists off his head and replaces it with the new gold body.

His old body then plugs into the new body before falling limply to the floor. With razor-sharp reflexes, Lego scoops up the headless body and drops it in the crate before fastening the lid back into place.

"Keep the body. Scrap it for all I care. I am leaving now. Also my new name is Beau Studfest. I'm an Online Communications Expert and Life Long Bachelor. My true passion is to bang horny house wives whose husbands don't know how to please them" confirmed Legos- I mean Beau Studfest.

She begins to giggle a little bit.

"And how do you plan to accomplish that?" asked Lexis- curious- and nothing else.

He turns his head and winks at her. She looks at him and envisions her dream man projected on his robot exterior.

"I've downloaded the bad boy personality and had this custom built" said Beau Studfest.

Her eyes follow his down to betwixt his legs where her eyes grown bigger- and bigger- and bigger still.


She began to twitch and shiver. It sounded like an Electric Screwdriver. Beau scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

The whirring of electric screwdrivers is replaced by the gnawing sound of jackhammers.


And then buy the beep beeping of heavy machinery backing up

Beep! Beep!

Before finishing with the sound of clogged plumping.


Hours later, Dodge walks in freshly cuckold, from a hard day of work.

He doesn't find her in the kitchen. He looks around the house before making his way to the bedroom. He finds Lexis in a wheelchair with an ice-pack in her lap.

She looks flushed and half-conscious.

He gives her a mean gaze.

He then went out of the room, grabbed his shotgun and returned, pointing it at her head.

"Where's that god damned robot, Bitch" shouts the hurt and enraged husband.
Her mouth curves into a blissful smirk.
"No clue, dear. He just walked up and left" she said.

She tried to stand up but found herself wobbling back into her wheelchair. She said nothing more. He gave her a mean look before walking over to his favorite chair, sits down and picks up his tablet.

It will be the first and last robot he'll ever buy.

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