It's not delivery, it's

It's not delivery, it's

not DiGiorno, or UPS, or Avon calling, or a kid selling magazines, or Jehovah's Witnesses ringing my doorbell, and I wasn't going to open my door til I figured out who it was.

I attached my spy camera to an RC plane and flew it through the chimney. I saw a girl scout at the door, some presents Santa dropped on the roof, and gun smoke. Suddenly, my plane

listed violently and static filled the screen. "Damn wigeons!" I heard Mr. Jenson scream outside. "Keep out of my yard!" My Fisher-Price predator drone had bit the dust. I vowed

revenge on Mr.Jenson.He was a hunting enthusiast & liked to shoot decoys in his backyard.I built my next drone to look like a decoy.At Mr.Jenson's next BBQ he invited his hunting

confidante. That's Mr. Jenson's person who he is most vulnerable with, who he shares everything with on his hunting trips. But this confidante was a decoy because I made a

humanoid bot that was indistinguishable from a real live human. I'd rigged it with plenty of sensors, listening- and recording devices, 3-D camera's, the likes. Poor mr. Jenson had

no idea he was the subject of an experiment started back in 1990 by Mrs Jenson. The Mrs wanted every move Mr Jenson made recorded so she could feed her jealous bot new

and that, my young complainant, is why we eat potatoes as a side dish every night in this house, so that some of us can help to clear the table when we are done!