Meido BULLI

>>Send maido waifu to a day at the spa, aquire army of roombas
This gave me an idea

"Babe, you know I can take care of myself!"
<"Yes, and I trust you, but that doesn't mean I don't want to take care of you instead."
"Please, Babe, honey, dearest love-of-my-life, I want you to take a break every once in a while and be a little selfish."
<"Anon, you know I don't-"
"For me, Babe. Please."
>your personal, ever attentive and wonderful kiki maid of a wife sighs expressively
<"Alright, you win."
"Make sure you enjoy yourself, too. A week at the spa with your girlfriends is something you enjoy, not mope over."
>you passed her a bright red suitcase, which she took gingerly in both hands
>she leaned forward, expecting a routine goodbye
>you happily obliged, pressing your lips to hers
*BEEP BEEP*
<"Come on Becca, save the snogging for when you get back!"
>her friends hollered from the driveway
>smiling, you squeezed her wrist and sent her on her way
>she would have a good time, you were sure of it
>and as the car pulled out of the driveway, you waved and caught her smile out of the back seat
>you cracked a grin of your own
>as soon as the the car left sight, you broke into a sprint to the basement, cackling like a schoolboy
"AHAHAHAHA, YES! The time has come for my plan to be set in motion!"
>you embraced the evil scientist laugh that spilled from your body as you tore off the sheet covering your basement workbench
>the dastardly plan had taken shape as early as last year
>you had made all the preparations, taken great care not to reveal anything to your better half
>and now was the time to set it all in motion
>you pressed the switch upon the small, circular machine's head
>a low humming and whirring could be heard as the machine booted up, its cores spinning to life
>a crackling emanated from the speaker embedded within its body
>the whining of servos and motors echoed through the basement as the machine began testing its functionality
>the dull red glow from its two slit "eyes" began to flicker to life as the startup diagnostic came to an end
"Statement: Hello Master. Am I finally ready to be unleashed upon this household?"
"Yes, R0-0M84, the time is nigh."
"Exclamation: Master, my maintenance and behavioral cores are operating at peak efficiency. The feathered meatbag will soon face the greatness of my capabilities."
"Excellent, R0-0M84. Do not disappoint me."
"Confident Answer: Of course, Master. No meatbag, feathered or no, could hope to match my skills. It will be a veritable slaughter."
"Good, then you may begin immediately."
"Query: Is there someone that you need killed, Master?"
"What?"
"Correction: Is there something that you need cleaned, Master?"
>and so it began

"Commentary: Mistress, perhaps if your feathers stopped falling from your fleshy meatbag body, I would not be here to clean them up all the time."
<"WHAT?! Are you saying I can't clean up after myself?!"
"Qualification: I am merely stating the fact that, Mistress though you are, as a feathered meatbag, such useless organic materials regularly fall into my routine maintenance passes."
<"Routine mainte- YOU'RE ALWAYS FOLLOWING ME AROUND!"
"Answer: Of course, Mistress. I regularly find maintenance activities to occupy myself with when chasing your lumbering body."
<"WH-HOW?! I'M ALWAYS CLEANING EVERYTHING!"
"Speculation: Mistress, it is alright to achieve less than perfection at tasks you have confidence in. You are just a feathered meatbag, after all."
<"AAAAAANNOOOOOOOOOOOONNN!!!"
>deep within the confines of the doghouse, you broke out into maniacal laughter