Reddit Writing Prompt; Humans have invented robots to do menial labour, but said robots take Asimov’s laws VERY seriously, resulting in them not doing anything unless human life is in danger. People have had to get very creative to get the robots to do their chores for them.

The rope around my chest dug deep into my skin. Hung from the boughs of a great oak, suspended ten feet above the cold, unyielding earth I began to ponder the plan that brought me to this predicament. 
As I questioned the merit of this idea my household robot, MAX, appeared from the back door. Gears and pistons hissed and turned beneath a shell of white ceramic, his plain oval head directed towards me. His single eye, a circle set in the centre of his face, glowed yellow; he was confused.
“MAX!” I cried, twisting in the breeze, “I need your help MAX!” 
In an instant the automaton sprung into life, his eye turning a shade of green. He bounded off of my patio, crossing the distance in seconds, and before I knew it he was right below me. He reached for me, the pistons in his legs pushing him upwards. Yet for all his height he still fell short, a foot separating his hand from mine
“You have to cut the rope MAX!” I stated, pointing to my bindings. The robot beeped once in conformation, and his eye followed the rope from the branches of the tree to were it was anchored, wound round a great stone at the edge of my yard. There it ran taut along the grass to the base of the tree, were it then snaked up the trunk.
MAX turned for the door, no doubt wanting to acquire a knife or saw to cut the rope. “No MAX,” I yelled, “there’s no time!” I pointed towards the lawnmower nestled by the patio. “Use the mower!”
MAX beeped in conformation, sprinting for mower. In a flurry of motion he primed the pump and pulled the cord, the motor roaring into life. With inhuman speed he crossed the yard, working his way round the great oak from which I hung and towards the rope that held me.
MAX ran the blades over the rope rapidly, fibres flaying as metal met chord. The rope was thick, the sturdiest I could find in my garage. It would take him over a dozen passes to sever it, I made sure of that.
I watched with smug satisfaction as the robot toiled away, grass and chord flying as he furiously ran the mower back and forth. Each pass left the rope a little more frayed, a little closer to snapping.
It was then that the failings of my plan finally dawned on me. While I had succeeded in getting MAX to mow the lawn, I had failed to account for my well being after he had cut the rope. A ten foot fall may not kill me, but it would certainly leave me in a sorry state.
My pondering was cut short by a sharp snap, and the gut-churning drop that followed. Time slowed as I found myself freed from my self imposed suspension.
I met the ground with great force, the impact rattling my teeth and jostling my brain. Were it not for the thick, unkept bed of grass below, I could have very well broken something. As it stood, I had survived with minimal injury and only moderate pain.
I rolled to my side, greeted by the white and silver legs of my robot. MAX stood over me, his eye a soft blue; he certainly felt he did his job. “Good work,” I wheezed as I pushed myself to my knees. MAX beeped once in conformation.
Kneeling, I surveyed my yard. A strip of short, neat grass cut the emerald sea of the lawn, running to a small patch covered by rope fibre. In total, one eight of my lawn had been cut.
I sighed and looked back the the great oak tree from which I once hung. Today was going to be a very long day.

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