FYOP/Hollywood Hardware/0027
"I'm glad I chose you too," you say, feeling your heart swell with love for this incredible woman. "I cleaned up my apartment for you, too, figuring you'd expect it to look good when you moved in."
A moment passes, and you add, "I may technically own you, and I kind of imagined we'd fool around a lot, but I want you to want that too. I want to be worthy of you."
You giggle like a schoolboy and add, "Hey, you never did that thing where you mixed it up with me and took me down."
"I was going to do it when we got home," she says, winking at you. "But since you mentioned it, I might as well do it now."
She reaches over and gives your ass a good squeeze. "Mmmm, nice," she says, her eyes twinkling.
You blush and stammer, "W-well, I'm glad you like it."
"I do," she says, leaning in and giving you a long, slow kiss. "I really do."
You take her hand and lead her into your house, your heart racing in anticipation.
Inside, on your couch, are some magazines about commercially available robots, including some ads for Hollywood Hardware. One of them reads, "Get a Robot Who'll Do Whatever You Want."
"See, this bothered me," you point it out to Janelle. "I—kind of wanted to find a smart, loud girl who'd make me do whatever SHE wanted."
"Oh, boo," she says, her eyes softening as she looks at you. "You really are sweet."
"Thanks," you say, blushing.
"I'm glad you chose me," she says, taking your hand. "I promise I'll make you very happy."
"I know you will," you say, meaning it.
And then you kiss her, and you know that everything is going to be alright.
The End