"I've read it, of course," Marlboro continued, "but I've never owned a copy." He caressed the dogeared cardboard cover. "Isn't it fantastic? In that barbaric century the customers sometimes refused to buy from our predecessors in the Guild. It seems impossible that anyone could have been so crude as to turn away one of those sturdy pioneers at the door." Perry shifted uncomfortably. He had been prepared to turn away one of the Great Men at _his_ door. "Ah!" Marlboro exclaimed. "Your bacon is ready, young man." At a flick of the salesman's finger, the golden strips of meat lifted into the air and floated to an absorbent mat on the table. Perry stared. Not a bubble of fat had fallen to the floor in passage. "How did you do that?" "Serve-All does all," the MS said coyly. "Mine doesn't," Perry said. "Of course not!" Marlboro moved deftly into the opening. "You need a new one." So he had tumbled for the first trap. Perry blushed and ate a piece of bacon. The Master hefted an object to the table top. It was a hemisphere about 18 inches in diameter, smooth and featureless except for a handle on the curved top. It was painted psychological green. "This is the _new_ Serve-All," Marlboro said glibly. "Notice its smooth unobtrusive shape. No working parts exposed, but inside is a mass of circuits and servos around a baby reactor ready to do everything for you." "The bacon," Perry persisted. "How?" He was aware that the first step in successful selling is to arouse curiosity. But he was confident he could refuse to buy, though it be contrary to convention and good taste. "Fingers of energy," the MS said. "Invisible, sensitive fingers of energy reach out of here--" He tapped the Serve-All dome. "--and they'll do anything that needs doing, at your mental command. Right now this one's tuned to me, but a minor adjustment will fit it to your personal needs. Here, let me show you something else." Perry felt a gentle, firm pressure on his left cheekbone. It moved down his cheeks, across his upper lip and up the other side. Then under his chin. Marlboro whipped out a pocket mirror. Perry had just been shaved. "See?" the Master beamed. "Wonderful isn't it?" Perry nodded. That was calculated to put him in a yes mood. While they talked the Serve-All cleared the breakfast clutter and cleaned the cooking shield without visible remains or waste. Marlboro pulled a contract pad out of his pocket. "I presume I can put you down for one of these." "I don't need it," Perry said. "My old one is good enough." "Ridiculous!" Marlboro said indignantly and then chuckled good-humoredly. "Oh, I see what you're doing. You're trying some of the old tricks from the 20th century. Well, I like a game of wits, too. Look what else this model will do." While Perry watched, the Serve-All repaired a broken knob on a plastic chest, cleaned the rug and etched a mural of a voluptuous nude on one blank wall.