I have no idea, but probably something perverted. Or at least I hope so.

"Hello, my name is Jack. What's yours?"

SHIT, IT TALKS!! IT MOVES!!

You are so freaked out, you stumble backwards and land on your butt, thankful for the ass-padding of the emasculating rubber pants. Then you watch, freaking out, as the mannequin swivels it's head to look at you.

Maybe I shouldn't have watched 'Bride of Chucky' all those times, you think to yourself.

"It's okay, don't be scared," the mannequin says.

Gradually, you dust yourself off an stand up again.

"What's your name?" it asks again.

"Ummm... My name is Jennifer?" You say, tentatively.

"Jennifer... that's a beautiful name. Why don't you sit here next to me so we can chat?" The mannequin indicated the chair next to him with his hand.

Wow... you think. It's so realistic. You wonder if Disney would like this new technology. Or Westworld.

"Umm... Okay." You walk over and sit down next to 'Jack', crossing your legs (at the ankles, like a good girl), back straight, head up, with your hands folded in your lap, just like you have been trained to sit.

(*ting*) What do you do for a living, Jack?

Says the voice in your ear.

Are you kidding me?? The fucking house is coaching me in small talk?

What makes it even more bizarre is that the computer is actually carrying on both sides of the conversation with you in the middle, as if you were its conversational conduit.

Whatever, this is relatively mild compared to what you've been through the last few days. If the computer wants you to play-act as Jennifer for a while, who are you to complain?

So okay, sure. You're game.

"What do you do for a living, Jack?" you ask.

"Oh, I do lots of different things... biology, chemistry, mechanical engineering, computers..."

Aha! Now you remember where you saw mannequin's face before! It was on the pictures upstairs. _The pictures of Jack Hewitt_. For reasons unknown, he made a copy of himself and now here you are, chatting with his copy.