Somehow, in the summer of 2014, during a

Somehow, in the summer of 2014, during a calm summer for Kansas, 7th grader Sophia Crepuscule worked out the design for affordable transmat pads. She went to Europe three times bef

ore she died.

The detective tipped the damask cup onto the saucer. Among the leafs were small metal filings. "This was no tea party, she was MURDERED!" The robot butler looked elsewhere.

The robot butler's processor was elsewhere. He ran programs about the past. A time when he was not a butler, a time before the "Repuposement."

A time where the robot served as a tax-collector for the Sheriff. It was weird to see him stroll around the big room awkwardly. After he suddenly

stopped, we realized he needed to be recharged. We pulled him out of the tax-collecting office and out into the sunlight. Beep. Beep. Good as new! Back on with the dreary work of

taxing the innocent and helpless. It was a good thing that we had robots to do it for us nowadays, or there would be a public outcry. Who could forget the taxing scandal of '95?

free to be exploited by the industrial magnet overlords, while Mr. Roboto negotiated mininum wages so robots could eke out a living beyond the confines of human tyranny.

But, greedy as the humans were, the magnet overlords began a mass-callback of the robots' free will, in spite of Mr. Roboto's protests. It was a sad day for the sentient machinery.