literature

Rauvert and Mallerby- The Phobia of Clothespins

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Literature Text

“Fetch!”

The two cartoony eyes on the screen twitched and scrunched up in both confusion and worry. A frequent action.

“Excuse me?” Wavered a slightly mechanical voice of indeterminable age.

“Fetch!” his master simply repeated. In his experience with her, he had listed unwavering repetition, in her case, as one sign of situational ignorance. Or, to be rather blunt, insanity.

“I’m rooted to this spot! You built me!” His pupils widened.

Tilting her head, she said with a pout, “You mean I never gave you wheels?”

“Ulp!”

The immobile trash disintegrator was pretty sure that her reddening cheeks would pop when she blurted out, “Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!” Her pale fists smacked her rosy forehead in frustration.

“I’m such an idiot! All of this time you’ve only had one view to appreciate!  You haven’t even seen the rest of the house, let alone got to look out the window of my own room! I built you in Jonas’s garage, but I booted you up in this! Same! Exact! Spot! Hnngh! Oomph!” Oily smudges from her fingertips smeared over the AI’s black polish.

“Uhh…Are you trying to hug me or lift me?” he asked once he heard her wincing. “I really don’t like it when you leave nasty greasy fingerprints on my coat.” Ironically, he didn’t mind collecting trash, as long as it smelled tolerable, or wasn’t neglected, but he certainly was picky about keeping a smooth shine.

“The ads on T.V. say that doggies should maintain healthy coats. Rauvert, are you secretly transcanine? Bow-wow, Rau-Rau! I told you to fetch! Hee-hee! Maybe I should back up your files on my disk, scrap your parts, and remodel you into a dog! And when it’s time to take out the trash, you will then proceed to shit out ash! Oh, a rhyme! Hee-hee!”  

Her trembling arms fell on her lap and she clutched her knees. “I give up.” she sighed. “You’re so fucking fat!”

Rauvert rolled his eyes. Resorting to childish whining was also a sign of her insanity. “I’m almost empty.

She glared at him. “I meant the materials that you’re made of! What was I thinking?!  No wheels, impractically heavy build…” Tears welled up and absurdly distorted the AI’s face screen. “What else have I done wrong, Rauvy? Are there any other design flaws that I should fix?” she sobbed and flopped on the floor.

Rauvert considered his own AI to be as disposable as the ashen waste that he produced. Why did she even bother with installing an AI into a trash disintegrator? What was the purpose? Wouldn’t she rather have a talking fridge to monitor her diet? But he knew that telling her she should delete his personality program would not soothe his master. “No, everything else is running just the way I’d like it.” he lied.

“Really?” came her carpet-muffled voice. She peered up at him.

“Don’t worry yourself over it! I’m fine. And I can wait on getting the wheels attached.” He even managed a reassuring smile with his comically flexible cartoon mouth.

“Thankee!” she sputtered, brushing away her tears. Relieved, she perked up in a criss-cross apple sauce position and held the side of her hand against her forehead and jiggled her raised pinky up and down twice. Her special salute.

“Uh, Mallerby?”

“Uh-huh?” Her hand rested back down on her thigh.

“Don’t use clothespins as hair pins. It looks tacky. And…uh…have you realized that this whole time you’ve been…uh…not wearing any clothes?”

Mallerby made a huffing noise and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Of course! I’m not that batty!” She struggled to open the clothespins and grimaced as she ended up dragging them through her outrageously long platinum hair and ripping out tangled strands. “Ow, ow, ow…” she murmured.

“Then why…?”

“All of my good clothes are outside drying.”

Rauvert blinked. “Good clothes?”

“I absolutely refuse to wear that horrid dress that my aunt gave me a year ago! The pattern on it is so gaudy and blurry, it actually rattles my eyes to look at!” she complained, scowling. Now she was occupying herself with tediously removing all of the torn strands of hair from the clothespins.

“Uh…Oh…kay…” Rauvert gasped. “Wait! Hold on now, when you said that your clothes are drying outside, please tell me you meant the backyard!”

“Of course! I’m not about to let the trees in the front yard to shake pollen all over my clean clothes!” she said.

It dawned on Rauvert that his master had no shame to be seen- Oh God! No! Rauvert internally screamed. “Mallerby! That is not the proper use for clothespins! I don’t care if you look like an idiot with them in your hair! Just don’t stick any clothespins up there! You could get splinters doing that!” he warned her shakily.

“So, you admit I’m an idiot, too?” she asked, sending him a defiant smirk.

“My God, yes! Just please stop!” he wailed.

“All right, all right. No need to be so…hee-hee! Pushy!” she giggled.

“This isn’t funny!” Rauvert cried.

“Oh, looky! I’ve finally managed to open the clothespin without pinching my fingers!” Mallerby said.

But before Rauvert could say to be careful, she shrieked in pain as it clamped onto an unflattering area.

At the same time, Rauvert howled at her. With well deserved laughter.

“Oh God! Shit! Shit! Shit! What the fuck, Rauvert? This isn’t fucking funny! I can’t get it off! OWWWW!” she panicked.

“It’s not like I can help you!” The AI said, his voice still trembling with laughter.


Mallerby stared with horror at the clothesline.

There are so many of them.

She could only make a small “Eep!” sound, and then she bowed her head. I can’t even look at them!

So she focused on her toes. It felt good to flex them between the blades of grass. Nostalgic calm refreshed her, and for the next few minutes, she concentrated on her breathing pattern.

My stress is leaving my head, she thought to herself.

It’s leaking out of my mouth, she exhaled.

Caressing my breasts, she could feel her heartbeat slowing down.

Curling around my tummy, she became aware of her belly button.

Snaking around my legs, she felt a slight tickle behind her knees.

Squirming past my toes, she returned to admiring the gentle prick of the grass blades.

And dissolving in the dew.

She had completely forgotten what fear she had been trying to repress.

When the wind sent a loose clothespin at Mallerby’s feet…

She screamed.




I don't even know what I was thinking when I wrote this.

It makes me want to write more about these two.
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IMP6636's avatar
Very...interesting? XD It was pretty good. Well-written if not a bit confusing, not too shabby overall.