"Why don't you be a dear and go clean up the place a bit," Rachel said, clutching the crystal.
Angela could feel her rage rising within her. Who did this bitch think she was? "Oui, Madam," Angela said, with a French accent and everything. Why was she talking like that?
"Oh, and put a maid's uniform on. I think servants should look the part," Rachel said, with a smirk. "Don't you agree, Robert?" she asked Angela's husband.
"Oh yes, definitely," he agreed.
Angela wanted to yell, saying that she wasn't a lowly servant. She was Robert's wife! But instead, she found herself agreeing with this black bitch. "Oui, Madam. I weel get eh new uni-form." Still with that French accent? Why couldn't she stop herself from talking like that? More importantly, why couldn't she stop talking at all?
Mrs. Wellington then left the living room and headed to the maid's quarters, her body fully convinced that she was some sort of French maid.
"Now," Rachel said, turning back to Robert. "Where were we?"
Still hidden, Bobby's opinion had changed on the situation. At first, he thought it was funny. His mom was totally getting put in her place. But now she was acting like a maid? A French maid? She'd never do something like that, not even for a joke. It was clear that this Rachel woman had some sort of power over his parents. How was she doing it?
