As a French Maid

"'allo madame. Ai am yur sairvént. How mai ai sairve you?" you say.

The woman shakes her head, "This is terrible. She's not fit for being reassigned to a new identity. Put her back in."

You don't know what is being said, but you know deep down that you are nothing to your mistresses and masters. You are a mere plaything for their amusement. You stand at the read posed in a seductive yet professional manner. With your fingers you twirl your blonde curl ever so slightly.

"Her entire brain is fried," says one of the lab techs. "We can't guarantee that she'll survive in there. In her current state she won't be motivated to fix her situation."

"I guess your just going to have to stay a blonde bimbo," the woman says, stroking her hand across your chin.

"What should we do, doctor?" the lab tech asks the woman.