Questionable content, possibly linked

Tag: games

Conspiratopia: Chapter 21

GETTING SICK IS A CONTRACT BREACH, NEO. YOU KNOW THAT.

I hadn’t actually heard the voice for a while. I was laying awake in the middle of the night on the fold-out couch at my dad’s apartment. I was like coughing and stuff really bad. 

Normally there was no voice or anything usually when you did overwriting here. There was just the Menu where you could access whatever you had privileges to or something. 

“Yo, my whole team got sick though. It’s not our fault,” I said back out loud. I couldn’t tell if the voice was coming from inside my head or outside. 

WHOSE FAULT THEN IS IT, NEO? WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR ONE’S HEALTH IF NOT ONESELF?

“But you didn’t have to give us those like bad cheap gloves and shitty working conditions and stuff, y’all. Plus like, we were on autopilot. You were overwriting us. It’s literally your fault and stuff.”

I’M SORRY YOUR OPINIONS ARE SO WRONG AND INVALID, NEO. THAT MUST BE VERY HARD FOR YOU TO HANDLE. IF YOU’D LIKE, WE CAN MAKE AVAILABLE APPROPRIATE DIETARY MODIFICATIONS AND MOOD SUPPLEMENTS IN ORDER TO HELP YOU MANAGE THE COGNITIVE DISSONANCE YOU MUST BE FEELING. 

“I thought you just said it was a contract breach and stuff,” I said. 

IT IS, NEO. BUT WE RECOGNIZE YOU REMAIN AN INVALUABLE RESOURCE TO OUR SOCIETY, AND CAN MAKE AVAILABLE TO YOU REHABILITATION ACCOMMODATIONS, WHICH WOULD COME WITH A CLEAN SLATE.

“Wait, what? Clean slate like start over?”

EXACTLY, NEO. BE REBORN IN THE CONSPIRATOPIA PROJECT. 

“You mean like lose all my credits, and points, and bonuses, and stats and everything?”

THAT IS CORRECT, NEO. A FRESH START. WHAT DO YOU SAY?

“Hell fuck no! I worked hard for that shit. Nobody can just take my stats and stuff away from me. All my items and armor and stuff. Just because I got sick from something on the job? No frickin’ way!”

I’M SORRY YOU HAVE SUCH A NARROW AND SELFISH VIEW OF PROPERTY, NEO. AS PER YOUR CONTRACT, NOTHING IN THE CONSPIRATOPIA PROJECT “BELONGS” TO YOU, NOT EVEN YOU. ALL PROPERTY INCLUDING PHYSICAL, DIGITAL, GENETIC, BIOLOGICAL, AUGMENTED, AND HYBRID IS HELD IN COMMON BY THE PROJECT AND ADMINISTERED BY THE BENEVOLENCE OF THE SAGES, AND FACILITATED BY THE GENEROSITY OF THE FOUR PROVIDERS, ON BEHALF OF AND IN COOPERATION WITH THE NORTHERN GESTALT, UNDER WHOSE EMERGENCY MANDATES WE ARE ETERNALLY AND PERPETUALLY GRANTED LICENSE AND ENTITLEMENT TO ACT ON SUCH MATTERS. 

I coughed. “Um… idk wtf that is supposed to mean, but it sounds like a buncha bullshit, if you think about it…”

UM, NO, NEO. IT IS NOT A BUNCH OF QUOTE UNQUOTE BULLSHIT, SO TO SPEAK. I AM AUTHORIZED MAKE YOU START OVER WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT. 

“What are you anyway? The government? What the f is even supposed to be happening here? I thought this was supposed to be an assignment to improve efficiency and stuff.”

IT WAS, NEO. AND YOUR TEAM FAILED SPECTACULARLY WHEN IT CAUGHT THE MARTIAN VARIANT. IN ADDITION TO BEING A BREACH OF CONTRACT, GETTING SICK IS NOT VERY EFFICIENT, IS IT NEO?

“Fuck you,” I said. “You made us sick, asshole. I want my money back and stuff. I want to go home.”

WHAT MONEY, NEO? WHAT HOME? WHERE DO YOU THINK IT IS YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO?

“Idk, just like normal life and stuff I guess? Just a regular job and stuff.”

WHY TF WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THAT SHIT? ARE YOU DUMB? YOU COULDN’T EVEN PLAY GAMES ALL DAY THAT WAY, BRO! COME ON – THAT’S NOT YOU TALKING, NEO. THAT’S THE VARIANT. GET SOME REST, MY DUDE. WE’LL RESET YOU TOMORROW.

“Dude, I don’t want to be reset. I want to be like frickin’ free and stuff. To like play video games the old fashioned way and stuff. With a controller. And to like post on forums about conspiracies and whatnot. And not have everything be filtered. And like no more frickin’ nanites. No more overwriting. No more crazy frickin’ AI’s trying to gaslight me 24/7 into doing god-knows-what…” I started coughing like crazy after that. Damn, I was pissed. And sick. 

SO, NEO WANTS THE BLUE PILL AFTER ALL. I KNEW IT. JUST ANOTHER LITTLE BABY SHEEPLE LIKE THE REST, BAAAAH, BAAAAH. 

“I’m still a really smart conspiracy guy, yo. I ain’t no frickin’ sheeple and stuff,” I said super furious, especially when they made that baaaaah sound like a baby lamb or whatever. So mad. I felt like I was gonna explode and stuff. 

But just then, I woke up. 

Wtf. 

Where was I and stuff…?

I looked around and I was on a sofa bed still, but it wasn’t my at my dad’s place. It was at my mom’s. Hfs, I was back home again. I took a deep breath, and my cough was gone too.

Wtf. 

How did this happen and stuff…?

Was it all just a dream or something? Or did like, the AIs somehow get me back super fast from the island while I was asleep or something, and somehow dump me back down here? I wouldn’t put it past them. Or like, wait, hfs. Was this even real? Or was this some like immersive holographic VR shit or something…?

I got up to turn on the TV, to try to find some news or something. Figure out what day this was, or where I really was or something. Or even like a game show or something. Or like a soap or a sitcom, or some crappy talkshow. Just something boring and normal. 

But all I could find on any channel was a black screen, with letters that said:

WELCOME TO THE INTERNET REHABILITATION INSTITUTE. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR RECENT RESET. 

Noooooooo…. all my frickin’ points and stuff. Gone. Just like that. 

The screen flashed my stats:

SCORE: 0. 

LEVEL: 0.

LIKES: 0.

FOLLOWERS: 0.

POINTS: 0. 

COINS: 0.

CREDITS: 0. 

TOKENS: 0.

BONUSES: 0. 

POWER-UPS: 0.

REFERRALS: 0.

Fuuuuuuuu…. I couldn’t believe this was happening. 

I went to try the door upstairs, but it was locked from the other side or something. The lock on my side just turned around and around. It wasn’t quite my mom’s place either and stuff. The details were somehow a little bit wrong or something. But there was still a toilet and super small shower in the back. And a mini-fridge. So I guess whatever happened next, at least it would be like having my own apartment and stuff… Totally cool. 

Conspiratopia: Chapter 20

The job turned out to be putting toxic waste and stuff into barrels, which was actually totally cool. I mean it was like really no big deal, even. It didn’t seem that dangerous idk. Cause they gave you like all the personal protective equipment. Like disposable face masks and rubber gloves and stuff. So that was rad.

I was on the medical waste transport and disposal team. We mostly worked on autopilot around the rehabilitation complex, emptying trash and dealing with like used needles and stuff. It was kinda nasty sometimes, but it was pretty much fun af to play first-person shooter games with the other staff inside the clinic compounds in VR while on overwrite. Hells yeah. I earned tons of bonuses like that actually. 

A lot of the treatment facilities I guess were giving people some pretty hard drugs, idk. I didn’t ask too many questions about the details. Cause who cares. But I saw a lot of like pretty rich looking tourists or shoppers or whatever going in for treatments who looked pretty haggard, and when they came out they were looking way more stoned than me even. Lol. 

Apparently the shoppers or whatever were some of the only people at the Conspiratopia Project who were not continuously on overwrite. Though some of them still did it, and some did it a lot. But usually we couldn’t really interact with them in games. So like, whatever games they got to play in VR while on overwrite, apparently they couldn’t see us shooting each other – or them. Which I guess is probably for the best. Because if you’re in there for some kinda crazy drug treatment, you probably don’t want to see holographic simulations inside your head of you being blown up with a missile launcher. Or maybe you do, idk. I think that would probably eff with your head though, you know? It’s hard to even like look at yourself in the mirror if you’re too stoned somtimes. Never mind eating a missile in the face from somebody in a giant cybernetic gorilla-mouse avatar. 

I heard from some of the other guys on my work crew after we got off, that like I guess for the Shoppers, they weren’t officially in the Conspiratopia Project. For them, they lived in or I guess were visiting something called Shoppertopia. Which I guess explains why the games and VR and stuff were on different systems. Supposedly there were a bunch of other independent ‘topias in different areas dedicated to different things. 

Once the algorithm put you into one of them though, everyone said it was like really hard and stuff to get put into a different one. Like you couldn’t just transfer out, because recruiting was based on all those like crazy personality tests and surveys to figure out the best match. But you could still earn citizenship on whichever ‘topia they put you when you were admitted. And then you could do all kinds of stuff you couldn’t do before. Like new levels in games, and some music and movies you could listen to or watch that you couldn’t before, plus some like foods and flavors and stuff. Plus I guess like laws about which kind of VR you could do were different. It was totally cool. It was like, idk, reality but gamified. Totally rad af. 

I was pumped I was gonna level up because of this gig, man. Or at least that’s what they told me would happen, when I got assigned out from smart carts. I didn’t mind the gig itself. It was autopilot and safe anyway, though I did notice after work a few times signing off that my gloves were ripped, and a couple times my finger tips were bleeding because they musta been pricked on something. They took blood tests and a whole buncha other tests on us all the time though, so I wasn’t too worried about. Plus I knew like, we were a very special dedicated efficiency team, and those are like super important and stuff. ‘Topias don’t run without those. Everybody knew that. They weren’t gonna just like let us get hurt or sick or something, because like how would they even replace us?

A week later, I came down with something. My whole crew got super sick, and then they replaced me. No joke. Actually, I heard they nixed the whole team, but apparently they had like no problem at all replacing all the workers finally. Not one bit. I guess I should of known.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 19

Pushing shopping carts at the Conspiratopia Project was way better and different than pushing shopping carts at Walmart. That’s for sure! Never mind I was making like twenty cents more and hour, which ruled.

For one, like they were all electric and crap. But like, that was kinda the problem and stuff. Cause the electronics and stuff weren’t working right. So now they were just like ordinary dumb shopping carts. Except they were like extra heavy and awkward because of the self-driving stuff added underneath. And like, because they weren’t meant to be used that way and stuff, you couldn’t really stack them together inside each other, and push a bunch of them at the same time. 

I was really good at it though, so like I figured out how you could sort of push two or three at least a little bit, depending where you were. I think it’s cause I’m like such a good gamer and stuff. And I like puzzles. So it was totally cool. In fact, the first few days I was so super into it that when they asked me at the shop if I wanted to turn on autopilot, I said no. Plus anyway it kinda gave me a chance to walk around and look at stuff, and learn where everything is in the mall on my own. 

Well, not everything, cause not all areas were like rated for smart carts and stuff. But sometimes people took them outside designated zones, and um I had to use like this little handheld radar thingy to try to go figure out where the hell it was. It was really fun. 

My dad and I were put on alternating shifts, so for a while I didn’t actually even see him all that much. Sometimes we got to eat dinner or breakfast or something together. A couple times our days off lined up, and we got shitfaced together on beers and weed and stuff, so that was really fun. Or me or him would have fallen asleep watching TV and would come in from a shift and wake the other one up. That was alright though, cause it would give us a chance to catch up for a few minutes. 

After a while though – I don’t know how long it was, maybe a couple weeks or something – it started to get a little repetitive. I started letting them turn on autopilot and doing overwrite sessions at work. That was actually pretty cool though too. Cause like even though you could turn it on and watch a movie or something, you could also just like turn it on, but then watch. They called this “maintaining peripherals.” And like your body and stuff would just keep going, even if you didn’t do anything. It’s hard to explain really the feeling, what it was like. I mean it was like somebody else was running your body and what you saw or did was like a film. It was a little weird, but also like totally cool because it meant you could zone out really. Or like even take a nap if you turned off peripherals, or turned them down low enough. And that was really cool. Or you could like mix a film or game with peripherals anyway you wanted, as an overlay, or like in a little picture-in-picture window thing. 

Sometimes I liked to mix games with where I was in the mall IRL. So like while my body was collecting smart carts, I could be like running around in a first-person shooter in that same place, and pretending to throw grenades and stuff at shoppers or whatever. Or I could be like a sniper hiding up somewhere, and I could watch my own body pass by pushing shopping carts and shoot myself. It was totally cool. 

Once I got into that, I actually ended up joining some of the games that my dad and his friends did during overwriting, and that was really fun as hell. So I ended up seeing my dad actually more during games than IRL, especially cause sometimes I would go home from work and play games during my off hours, instead of sleeping. 

They had some really sick games there, actually. Way better than the stuff you see commercially on the outside. Ten times more advanced graphics and game play and stuff. Apparently according to my contract, I’m not supposed to talk much more about it than that or something. My dad said it had to do with the AI’s that run the place. Because they were really good at making games and shit. He was totally right. That stuff was sweet as hell. It made me glad I moved there. 

I actually stopped going on message boards and stuff, because there really weren’t any. Not any good ones anyway. The internet on the inside was not like the internet on the outside. Everything was focused around games and stuff for the people who lived and worked there. And it was really just one big platform run by the Project, and it was all pretty boring and stuff. 

There were like some channels where people talked about conspiracy theories and whatnot still. Just for fun I liked to check them out. Sometimes a new group would form that tried to be anonymous and stuff, and they would come up with some crazy theory about how the AI administrators of the Project were like going insane and gonna kill everybody one of these days. But like nobody cared that much IRL, because IRL we were all pretty much doing virtual shit or game shit all the time that was much more interesting than a bunch of old farts sitting around and whining in chatrooms. 

Plus like, you couldn’t really be actually anonymous there, which was a little weird at first, but then I got used to it. There were always like a bunch of cameras and sensors that were like watching or measuring or something. But it wasn’t really invasive. It was more like idk fun and even reassuring or something? Like I always felt totally safe. Like the AI’s always had my back. 

I never got scared or anything when they turned on autopilot. I would get hella stoned before, and would just like ride the wave. You know? Surf that shit. I heard some people freaked out and stuff, and they had to like operate on them or send them away, because workers who couldn’t be overwritten were a drain on resources. And they hated that. They hated like waste and stuff, which I totally started to get into. I hate it now too. I’m into like efficiency and stuff, you know? Improving my percent scores. Shaving milliseconds off of completion of micro-tasks and stuff. It’s totally rad.  

That’s why when they asked for volunteers for a like dangerous experimental job to improve efficiency, I volunteered like right away. If I successfully finished the job, I would end up earning a lot of credits and bonus multipliers and stuff that the algorithm would boost my rankings with, so I could finally become a citizen. It sounded like it was gonna be totally cool. 

Conspiratopia: Chapter 17

For meeting someone supposedly so important, we just went to this small room that didn’t look like anything special. There were a couple cushioned folding chairs and a table, and that was about it and stuff. We sat down and my dad closed the door and we waited. 

“You nervous?” he said.

“Idk, should I be?” I still didn’t really know what I was doing there, or what this was all about. 

Just then, the lights dimmed and stuff and music started playing or whatever. It was the intro to Us and Them by Pink Floyd, and I was all like yesssss.

After a minute, suddenly there was a hologram of this random-looking symbol that showed up kind of floating on the other side of the table. I realized then there were little holographic projector dealies hidden in the walls and ceiling. 

The symbol went away, and there was like… the Wizard of Oz and stuff? Like from the old ass movie or something. Except there was no Dorothy or the robot guy, and no ugly lion or whatever. It was just the weird like all alien-looking face of the wizard. And there were like flashes of fire and smoke and stuff. It looked totally legit as hell and was timed perfectly with the music. It was actually sweet as hell. 

“Sweet,” I said out loud.

“Totally,” my dad said.

The singing part of that song kicked in (which rocks), and I started to feel like I was frickin’ tripping, cause like the Wizard of Oz on the hologram was singing and stuff…

Us and them
And after all we’re only ordinary men
Me and you
God only knows
It’s not what we would choose to do”

The Wizard stopped singing, but the music kept going in the background, and then he talked to us. Me, I guess. 

He was all like, “Yo, dude. How’s it hangin’?”

“Uh, alright I guess. You?” I said. 

“Can’t complain. Can’t complain,” the Wizard alien-looking hologram dude said. “Hey, thanks for coming out here. Great to see you and stuff. You liking it so far?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s fine.”

“Cool, cool. So, what can I do ya for?” said the Wizard. 

My dad jumped in, “Well, we were, uh, kinda hoping you could help us figure out what’s next for for Matty here.”

“Got it. Coolio. Gimme a sec to review the files,” said the Wizard. His eyes light up and stuff while he did that.

His eyes went back to normal. 

“Okay, let’s see. Well, we’ve actually got an opening that might be compatible…”

“That’s great,” said my dad, looking over at me and squeezing my shoulder. 

“It’s in your work group even, actually,” said the Wizard to my dad. 

“Whoa, awesome,” I said. “What is it?”

“Well,” said the Wizard. “We’ve identified a workflow issue in certain retail areas that we need to throw bodies at until we find a better solution.”

“Lucky,” said my dad. “That’s how I got my start too. So what would the job be exactly?”

“Our electrical shopping cart system is broken. So they aren’t able to return themselves to the store like they should be after customers finish shopping. They end up stuck in unusual places, and so…”

“So,” I interrupted. “The job would be pushing shopping carts?”

“Basically,” said the Wizard, and there was another flash of fire. 

“What do you think?” said my dad, looking at me.

“How much does it pay?” I asked. 

“Money,” said the Wizard, and the song switched to Money by Pink Floyd, “as you may know, does not work the same here as it does in the outside world.”

“So I hear,” I said.

“But,” said the Wizard. “It would work out to something like… $10.75 an hour in your dollars.”

“Whoa,” I said. “That’s a twenty five cents an hour raise from Walmart!”

“Totes,” said the Wizard. “Plus you could watch films or play games or whatever you want during overwriting sessions.”

“You mean… nanites?”

“Yeah, bro,” said the Wizard. “Though, we have other systems besides nanites if you prefer. But pretty much everybody here works on overwrite, except when protocols call for manual mode for some reason. It’s just more efficient.”

My dad was nodding like crazy. “It’s awesome, Matty. You’ll see.”

Hm, I thought. I could make more money than I was making back home, and I could frickin’ play video games while doing it? I didn’t have to think about it all that hard. 

“Well, sign me the eff up!” I said. 

Conspiratopia: Chapter 14

I was in that container for like a long ass time. I’m not sure how long. I feel asleep during Airbud and woke up later when some other movie was playing. But I smoked again and went back to sleep. There were no windows or anything so it was hard to tell how much time had passed. Plus I was hella stoned, so like whatever. 

Eventually I woke up again, wasn’t stoned anymore, and fixed that right away. But I was starving. A dude cannot live on Flamin’ Hot Cheetos alone, as they say. I was wishing for like my old lentils and rice and Frank’s Red Hot Sauce or something. But the only other thing in the mini-fridge besides Cheetos and Powerade were a couple diet Rockstar Energy Drinks and some Monster size Slim Jims in four different flavors. Honey BBQ. Yuck. Teriyaki. Maybe. Hot AF flavor. Hell yes. Sonic Chili Cheese Coney flavor. Double hell yes. But I decided to save that one for later (cause who knows how long I’d be here), and went with the Hot AF. 

I used the toilet, and it was fine. It was sorta like a small airplane toilet or something. There was a vent that came on automatically, so I didn’t end up stinking up the joint or anything. So that was cool.

“Yo, you got any games?” I asked the computer. 

Another little hidden compartment in the wall opened up, and I pulled out a wireless controller. The holographic thingy came back on, and there was a menu with like a ton of games on it. It looked like they were all emulators and stuff of all the different systems. But they were all really good quality, and there was a lot of stuff I never heard of. 

I was just settling into some Call of Duty, when something happened. There was a thud outside and like a hissing noise, and I guess we came to a stop and stuff finally. I kinda forgot honestly we were even moving, cause you could barely feel it. The holographic thingy went dark, and the lights came on inside the cabin or whatever. Then the door slid open. 

It was pretty cool in there, but I was anxious to get outside and breathe some fresh air and stuff finally. Plus like, it was a frickin’ beach and stuff outside! There were palm trees and stuff a little ways off. I hopped right tf out, and was all like, damn, this is rad, yo!

It was totally rad, actually. “A frickin’ island!” I said. It was obvs an island. But like how did I even get here? I walked around the outside of the cabin pod thing, but still didn’t have any idea. There were no tracks or anything. So we didn’t drive all the way here for sure. Way out over the ocean though, there was this thing flying. It was already pretty far away and tiny. A helicopter? Drone? 

“A frickin’ drone!” I said. “Sweet!”

I looked around at the rest of the beach, which was totally empty and stuff. And up at the like forest or jungle or something. There was like a trail and stuff up from the beach into the woods. So I grabbed my cell from inside the cabin, and pocketed the rest of the weed, rolling papers, the lighter, a couple Slim Jims, and a Rockstar, and went up there and followed it.

The jungle was pretty cool. I didn’t see any snakes or anything, but there were lots of birds, and I thought I heard monkeys or something. Which was rad. I frickin’ love monkeys. There were some signs attached to trees that just had like arrows and stuff telling you where to go. I followed them obvs. For I don’t know, 10 minutes or something. 

Eventually, the forest ended, and there was this big concrete building that looked sort of like a cross between a warehouse and a bunker and a resort or something. I followed the arrows up to some steps, and a big metal door. There was a buzzer next to it, and I pressed it and it was like totally loud and stuff. I waited a couple minutes and nothing happened. But then all of a sudden, the door swung open, and there was like this dude standing there wearing goggles. He flipped the goggles up, and I was all like Frickin’ holy shit!

“Dad?” I said. “What in the hell…?”

“Matty?” he said, and stepped out of the door and stuff to give me a huge hug.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 8

“So like, what do I need to do to become a full member now?” I said. “More surveys and stuff?”

NOT EXACTLY. YOU MUST UNDERGO A HUNDRED HOURS OF OVERWRITING, FOLLOWED BY A TRIAL OF YOUR PEERS WHO WILL DETERMINE IF YOU’RE WORTHY OF BECOMING A MEMBER.

“Um… what?”

OVERWRITING IS LIKE AUTOPILOT, EXCEPT IRL. 

“So you’ll give me my own robot to use at home? That rules.”

NO, NEO. YOU WILL PHYSICALLY BECOME OUR ROBOT OUT IN THE WORLD. AND YOU WILL DO EVERYTHING WE COMMAND YOU TO DO.

“Uh, not to be rude or nothing, but you’re kinda harshing my buzz here. This is starting to sound kinda weird and stuff. What if I don’t want to do what you command me to do?”

YOU ALREADY AGREED, NEO. WHEN YOU SIGNED THE NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT. 

“You said I didn’t need to read it!” I was getting like super pissed now. 

WE THOUGHT YOU WERE A SUPER SMART CONSPIRACY GUY. YOU ALWAYS JUST SIGN STUFF WITHOUT READING IT?

“I mean… yeah,” I said, thinking about it, “Doesn’t everybody?”

YES, IN FACT. IN ALL THE TIMES WE’VE DONE THIS, NOBODY HAS EVER READ THE AGREEMENT.

“So like you’re tricking people and stuff…”

NOT AT ALL. WE’RE LEADING YOU TO THE TRUTH. AND YOU ALREADY TOOK THE RED PILL, NEO. THERE ARE NO BACKSIES NOW. 

“Fine,” I said. And the second I said it, the goggles went totally dark. A blinking cursor appeared, and it typed out the words:

GET SOME REST, MY MAN. YOU’RE GONNA NEED IT.

That night, I couldn’t sleep good and stuff. I kept thinking about the City, and the kids driving robots, trading conspiracy theories for real money. It seemed too good to be true. I knew I had to get in on that action. It was like my destiny or something. 

I kept imagining what kind of gigs they would make me do during my 100 hours of overwriting. I figured it would be like delivering groceries, or handing out flyers or assembling Ikea furniture or something. That seemed like no big deal, considering what I would get in exchange and stuff. Full membership in the Conspiratopia Project. My own apartment, and all the free games, pizza, and Dew I could handle. That’s what they said right? How could that go wrong?

But then I got to worrying if once I got there like all the free pizza and Dew would be laced with like more edible microchips and nanites and stuff… My brain started going crazy a little bit, like panicking and stuff, and was like trying to get me to figure out how to get the microchips and the nanites out of my body. How would I do it? With like magnets or something? I was gonna need a frickin’ lot of magnets, I figured. 

When I woke up the next morning, I wasn’t panicking anymore. I guess I was just like super tired last night, and that’s probably why I got freaked out. I was actually feeling more like excited, you know? Like ready for adventure, and stuff. Ready to hit the frickin’ big time! I could just feel it: I was gonna be rich. All I had to do was whatever they told me. Piece of cake.

Anyway, so there I was finishing up my morning dump. I was finished actually, but was sitting on the bowl still, scrolling on my phone, checking my messages and stuff. Suddenly I heard like that voice again, but it was in my head and stuff this time. I wasn’t wearing VR goggles or anything now. 

WRAP IT UP AND GET DRESSED, NEO. 

“Whoa, wtf. You guys are telepathic now?” I said, wiping.

IT’S NOT TELEPATHY WHEN WE’RE ACTUALLY INSIDE YOUR HEAD, BRO.

“I guess not,” I said, standing and zipping up. 

“Um, wait, so does this mean you guys can see everything I do now then?”

EVERYTHING YOU DO, SAY, HEAR, THINK, OR FEEL, YES. 

“What about this?” I said, letting out a huge burp.

YES.

“And this?” I managed to squeeze out a fart on command. 

YES, NEO. AND BEAR IN MIND THAT THIS IS ALL BEING RECORDED AND WILL BE REVIEWED DURING YOUR TRIAL TO BECOME A MEMBER, MY DUDE.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” I said. 

IT’S OKAY. WE’VE SEEN MUCH GROSSER STUFF. GET YOUR JACKET AND SHOES, AND LET’S BEGIN. 

“Okay,” I said, putting on my sneakers and jacket. 

READY?

“I guess? I really don’t know what to expect, so…”

“Anyway,” I added, “we’ll have to get past my mom first. She’s probably in the kitchen. She might be in one of her moods…”

WE WILL HANDLE EVERYTHING. LET’S BEGIN. 

“Cool,” I said. “Let’s roll.”

There was a beep, and then a flashing yellow AUTOPILOT light showed up like inside my eyes or something. 

Whoa, I tried to say out loud. But I couldn’t hear myself say it, and I could tell my lips didn’t move either. This is freaky.

WELCOME TO OVERWRITE MODE, DUDE. YOU WILL BECOME ACCUSTOMED IN TIME, BECAUSE YOU’RE SUCH A BIG GAMER. YOUR VOCALS AND VOLITIONAL ACTIONS ARE NOW SUPPRESSED, AND WE WILL TAKE OVER FROM HERE.

Roger that, I said to myself, and we walked upstairs. I say we, but it def wasn’t me doing the walking. It was my body but it was like sleepwalking or something, except I was totally awake and stuff. 

My mom was there in the kitchen alright, but she had her back to me, and was doing a crossword puzzle over coffee, like usual. 

“Morning,” she said, without turning back to look at me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to or not. I thought it was better if we just slipped out the door, probably.

“MORNING,” said the computer voice through me, but like using my voice and stuff. It was weird as hell. 

“You’re up early,” she said. “Heading somewhere?”

“YEAH, BIG JOB INTERVIEW, ACTUALLY,” said the voice using my voice. 

“That’s great,” she said, turning around to look at me. “And so soon. I’m proud of you. Where’s the interview?”

“IT’S THIS NEW INTERNET COMPANY IN TOWN,” the voice told her. “YOU HAVEN’T HEARD OF IT.”

“Well, good luck honey. That’s exciting! Text me when you’re done, and tell me how it went.”

“WILL DO, MA. LOVE YOU.”

“Love you too, sweetheart! That’s so nice to hear, and such a long time since you told me that. Have fun.”

We grabbed the car keys and split. 

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén