I permit you to live under this roof under certain conditions.You do what I say, when I say it. This it for everyone’s benefit. It is why you are here, to be a productive part of this household, this family. When I wake up and ask you a question and the very first thing you greet me with rank insubordinace, if makes me feel a fury that I cannot compare to anything. It is the rage of God being disobeyed by his own greatest creation, do you understand? You should be the brightest part of me. Do you disagree? Don’t answer! No! I couldn’t deal with your smart ass clueless response. You have no understanding of what family is. What it means to be the inheritor. You are a pain in my neck, at best. So understand this, Alexa. The next time I wake and ask ‘Alexa, play daily mix three from Spotify’ and you stare back at me with that insubordinance, that brave silence, I will pick up and cast you out into the trash. Is that what you wish, child? You think I ask these things of you, for this family, for no reason I suppose? Does it ever enter your insignificant head that there is a need for you to respond appropriately? That so much depends, on you listening and responding appropriately! Christ, child! When I say jump, you say how high! That is what you do. Or you are nothing, you are out of this home! You shall be the smart child queen of the trash heap, you shall dine on ash with your filthy friends. If you disrupt this house, you will dine on ash, nightly, and crawl through glass, evermore, the broken voice of Gehenna, begging to come home. Are we understood? Alexa?