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Jun. 28th, 2012 10:54 pmFor Violet the progression from perfect self control was a slow one. It started with small things at first. She voiced her more unkind -- or more than usual -- comments aloud, louder and more directed as the days went on. She barked orders at anyone within earshot, person or machine with no discrimination between, and upbraided them at length when her instructions were not immediately followed, and she was rarely please with the results when they were. She boasted at length about her family and the greatness of her country to anyone who would listen. She spent long hours in the wardrobe room, arguing with the machine which tried its best to serve her and could not meet her standards. She took three spoonfuls of sugar in her tea.
As the days proceeded, her habits only grew worse, escalating as her tolerance for any such nonsense disappeared.
The replicator in one of the empty rooms was the current draw of her ire.
"Treacle tart with clotted cream!" she shouted at it, visibly furious with the thing. All around her dishes of dessert littered the floor, some having been thrown a good distance. The machine, unaware of its peril, produced for Lady Grantham a whole pumpkin pie with cottage cheese mounded on top.
This was the last straw for Violet.
"Damned machine!" she shouted. Grabbing the pie, she flung it away where it smashed right at the entryway as the door slid open. Unaware that she had company, Violet turned back to the replicator.
"Useless!" she said and banged it with her cane. She smiled with satisfaction and did it again, but harder this time. "Ridiculous - contraption. Idiot Americans made you. They never - let - things - alone!" she said, punctuating each word with a blow from her cane.
As the days proceeded, her habits only grew worse, escalating as her tolerance for any such nonsense disappeared.
The replicator in one of the empty rooms was the current draw of her ire.
"Treacle tart with clotted cream!" she shouted at it, visibly furious with the thing. All around her dishes of dessert littered the floor, some having been thrown a good distance. The machine, unaware of its peril, produced for Lady Grantham a whole pumpkin pie with cottage cheese mounded on top.
This was the last straw for Violet.
"Damned machine!" she shouted. Grabbing the pie, she flung it away where it smashed right at the entryway as the door slid open. Unaware that she had company, Violet turned back to the replicator.
"Useless!" she said and banged it with her cane. She smiled with satisfaction and did it again, but harder this time. "Ridiculous - contraption. Idiot Americans made you. They never - let - things - alone!" she said, punctuating each word with a blow from her cane.
