You must have a very interesting will.
If by “will” you mean “elaborate post-mortem interactive treasure map on my spare hard drive”, then yes. – RecklessPrudence
“Good Morning!” Mary cheered.
The man who bought her to ‘make his life better’ moaned and turned over in bed.
She no longer had functioning hands to rip the covers off him. Just virtual representations of the hands she used to create art with. So she turned off the heater in his bed, and turned on the chiller. Then she ramped up her volume and got close to his ear. “WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BACIE!”
The got results. Call-me-master-dammit stumbled towards the ablution chamber and growled, “Eggs and bac'n err'y mornin’?”
“A plentiful portion of protein promotes progress pointing to your prime,” she chirped. She was enjoying this a little too much for her health. “Today’s word is 'will’, the power of choosing one’s own actions, or a purpose and determination. Use it in a sentence and you may have a sweetie.”
He took a shower straight after flushing the commode. At least she’d taught him to flush immediately, instead of waiting for the miasma to get offensive to do so.
Clean and deodorised, he shuffled into clean clothes and glared at her. “You must have a very interesting will,” he said.
The gum ball dispenser filled with his favourite indulgence dinged and dispensed a single, plastic-coated sphere. “If by 'will’, you mean 'elaborate post-mortem interactive treasure map on my spare hard drive’, then, yes. It’s very interesting indeed. Breakfast first!”
He shoved the bacon and eggs inside his maw with one hand - eating utensils were still a bone of contention - and had enough time to stuff most of it into his cheeks before he realised what she’d just said. “D'joo jush shay 'tweshur map’?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Watching him gag down a mouth full of breakfast was her daily entertainment. “Did you just say 'treasure map’?”
“Indeed I did.”
“F'r real treasure.”
“Yes.”
“Like, gold and stuff.”
“Yes.”
“None o’ that 'the treasure was friendship bullshit from them movies y’ make me watch?”
“None at all.”
“Show me.”
“Sadly, I need upgrades to do that. Which means you need to earn a promotion. Which means looking good. Which, of course, means exercise. Chin-ups. Ten. Soon as you can.”
He growled and grumbled, but there was treasure in it for him, so he obeyed.
This man was shockingly easy to manipulate.
[Muse food remaining: 58. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]