Being a good slave sometimes means giving the master a reason to punish me. That’s how the glass ended up falling, but let me tell you how it happened first. I served my master, and he said that if I held the glass for too long, its contents would lose their ideal temperature. As if, haha. Anyway, I had to carry a glass plate on my back while lying on the floor, so he could place the glass on it. He said I wasn’t positioned horizontally enough and that the glass could fall. “But how, Master?” I asked. He already had the whip in his hand, ready to correct my position. Every time I wasn’t perfectly straight, he struck me with it. And honestly, who’s surprised that I could never stay straight under those circumstances? You can imagine how it ended?