Chapter 15 The Big Bad Love Machine

103.

A fly landed on the tip of Victoria’s big toe. It landed where her body was numb, and unfeeling, so she did not move it. She looked at it’s multi faceted eyeballs, and it’s puckering trumpet mouth. Then an additional fly landed on her naked retina, and she yelped, bolting upwards and smacking her skull on the underside of her bed.

‘Fuck!’ she rubbed her forehead.

She swiped at the fly, and missed.

Fuck, her head hurt. She got a pillow and wrapped it around her skull, until the thumping stopped, but she could still hear the buzzing.

Victoria started lying to her dad on the second day of being a floor person.

She texted.

Sorry, dad, at Alice’s house. Be there for couple days.

On hour later. 

That’s fine Vic. Just let me know you’re going there next time. Thought you were still in the house and I was panicking until now. Xx.

Day three.

Hey, when do you want to get picked up? Or are you coming back on the bus?

Several hours later.

Victoria, sorry to be a nag, but I’m panicking a bit. Could you give me a text to let me know you’re safe.

Day 4.

‘Victoria!’ shouted Charlie, outside Victoria’s room. ‘I’m… I think I’m gunna try to kick the door down, on the count of three: One! Two! Thr-‘ the door opened, ‘Oh my god you smell like shit!’ Charlie recoiled, gagged, pinched his nose and gagged some more.

Victoria stared at him in her blood stained and pajama top, from the miserable and grimy depths of her bedroom. Charlie could see a junkyard of plates, overflowing her desk drawer and spilling across the carpet. The toppled bedside table. The puke filled boiling pan. He saw flies freckling the air.

‘I haven’t showered in a while.’ Said Victoria.

‘WHY!’ asked Charlie.

Victoria shrugged.

My god, she looks miserable, thought Charlie. Oh shit, I’m a bad Dad aren’t I? Why am I such a shit father. Fuck me.

‘Oh baby,’ said Charlie. ‘Can… can I do anything to make it better? You… do you want a mug cake?’

‘I’m fine, I’m just tired. I don’t know why.’ She looked at her dad. ‘I’m… gunna go the bathroom now… is that okay?’

‘For a shower?’ Charlie asked hopefully.

‘For my Axetaline, but um, thanks for checking in on me dad. I’m gunna get my medicine, and then I’m gunna go back to sleep. I’m just really, really fucking tired.’ She slid past him in the hallway.

‘Okay.’ Charlie gulped. ‘Just… could you sleep on the couch where I know you’re safe. Because… locking yourself, in your room had me freaked out.’

‘I’m not gunna kill myself, dad.’ Said Victoria. She sounded annoyed.

He flinched.

‘All the same.’ He said.  

‘Sure dad.’ Said Victoria rubbing her face.

‘I love you.’

She paused outside the bathroom.

‘I love you too dad.’ And then the words she would later regret. ‘I’m sorry you couldn’t do anything to help.’

Charlie Brittleson went completely still.

She took her package of Axetaline from the bathroom cabinet, slid out the tray, popped out a pill. She gulped it, the bitter, shitty taste went waterfalling down her throat.

She looked down at her Axetaline package.

Her brow furrowed.

There’s no way, she thought. She fished out of the box, a folded up sheet of paper, unfolded it like a road map, and spread it across the kitchen sink. Her gaze rummaged across the paper, until it found the list of side effects.

Common side effects:

·        Feeling sick. (Nausea)

·        Headaches.

·        Feeling tired or week

·        Changes in your period (such as heavy bleeding).

·        Increased irritability.

·        Derealization.

She sighed.

‘I’m a fucking idiot.’ She said.

She quickly stabbed two fingers down her throat, and she threw up the Axetaline down the sink.

There was slime dripping from her lips.

‘Fuck.’ She said. ‘Shit that felt bad.’    

104.

Get up and brush your imaginary teeth with your hologram toothbrush.

Try to figure out if you’re a human looking into a mirror or vice versa. Under no circumstances should you ever stand between two mirrors at once, for if you do the world will end. 

Curl out your radioactive shit (biological malware capable of causing mass destruction if you ever eat it) and send it to the sewage dimension with a flush.

Get to the vanity table and put your face on. Get dressed in your 4K Reality++, hyper-pixel clothing (feels just like real clothes).

Exit your 3D printed bedroom, and enter the hallway made in China, walk down the retro-future, static stair case into the kitchen that only costs £5.99 at your local toy store.

Eat your plastic food with your imitation cutlery and talk to your iDad (cunningly crafted to look just like your real dad), he now generates his own dialogue and speaks as if he’s a real person.

Don’t think.

Look into the television windows, which automatically generates footage of pedestrians and dog walkers, and clouds and planes and sidewalks and houses and dog walkers and pedestrians and clouds and planes and sidewalks and pedestrians and

Read your auto-completed Edwin Drood (Charle’s Dickens unfinished masterpiece is finally finished) and stare eternally at your AI generated self portrait, while you listen to Beethoven 4.0 (he’s back after 200 years!)

Don’t think.

We stripped your dog for parts and used the pieces to make a better dog, we call him the K9 6000, the robot that pisses lemonade, farts music and shits gold; it loves you, even when you kick it, and no matter how much you torture it, the dog always smiles.

Cry your hyper realistic tears (now with 200% more misery), call your imaginary friends and listen to their scripted set of phrases (“Oh no”, “I Sad”, “I’m here for you [insert name]”); try to find a way out, try to get back to sub reality.

Don’t think.

Thinking is expensive.

If you think, you’re dead.

Buy rope, (now made from genetically engineered hair, specifically designed for state of the art, neck-snapping action), have it delivered to you by our user-friendly amazon drones, (now operated by GPUs with more computational power than the human brain).

Please note that the hangman corporation is not responsible for any harm caused to our users.

Hang yourself, for the ultra-deluxe suffocation experience, because it’s the only way to end the simulation.

All of this can be yours, for the low, low price of your everlasting soul.    

105.

Victoria was brushing her teeth.

She vaguely remembered having a dog several centuries ago, they had called him Sparky, but he’d died of cancer when she was four.

She spat into the sink.

She pulled back an eyelid and looked at the red muscle beneath in the mirror.

She was starting to think a bit more clearly, and was now drawing up a plan to call the doctors, to tell them that the anti depressants didn’t work.

106.

Charlie was drawing a face on a paper plate and pretending it was a person. He had propped it against a tall glass. Blood red cheeks, donkey teeth, super lashed eyes. She was beautiful in a 2-dimensional paper plate sort of way.

Charlie cleared his throat.

‘Hello, Misses Plate.’ Charlie said in his man’s voice.

‘Hello Charlie, how are you today?’  Said Charlie in his girly paper plate voice.

‘Oh not too bad, not too bad, I did one thousand words today.’

‘Kind of slow, don’cha think?’

‘What do you know, whore?’

‘Ha ha.’ Giggled the paper plate. ‘You think I can’t see you, Charlie, you think I don’t know who you are? You’re nothing Charlie, a sneaking lonely creep, you masturbate onto the page and call it art, when really its just radioactive spewage.’

‘Shut your pie hole!’ Charlie screamed. ‘You’re my creation and you will obey me.’

‘Or what Charlie? Or fucking what?’

Charlie grabbed the plate and ripped her to pieces.

He was panting heavily, feeling as if he had just murdered a beautiful animal, he ran a hand through his thinning hair. 

‘You fool I’m inside you.’ Said Misses Plate, her voice coming from all directions at once. ‘You can’t kill me, I’m immortal. I’m the paper plate bitch, I eat shits like you for breakfast.’

‘No, this isn’t possible!’

‘Oh it’s very possible and-’

And then Charlie decided he was bored and stopped talking to himself.

He picked up his phone and went scrolling through face book, so he could see all his friends living happily ever after.

He was calling his friends again.

‘I’m still not gunna be back for months, you know that right?’ said Friend 3.

‘I know, of course, there was just something I forgot to tell you about, last time we talked.’

‘What?’

‘I was thinking about hosting a game of DND again, I was wondering if you wanted to join.’

‘Who else will be playing?’

‘Oh, um… it would just be me and you at the moment, but I’m trying to rope in the original gang.’

‘Look… Charlie, life’s really crazy at the moment…’

‘We could do it online.’

‘I don’t have time, I’m sorry; I would play DND if I had time but I don’t, I’m sorry. But, um two months from now, I’ll be done with this protest bull shit, and we can have a game like old times, alright?’

‘Two months?’ said Charlie, sixty two days, he thought. ‘I can do that. Sure, just two months and then we’ll play.’

‘Yeah, I’ll start drawing up a character sheet, is it a one shot or…’

‘I was thinking about a full on campaign.’

‘Um, sure; I’ll see if I have the time. Anyway, I’ve gotta go, see ya round Charlie.’

Friend 3 hung up.

Charlie scratched his eyebrow, frowning. After a while he got out his phone, and opened up the calculator app.

Two months is sixty two days is one thousand four hundred and forty eight hours is eighty nine thousand two hundred and eighty minutes is five million three hundred and fifty six thousand, eight hundred seconds is infinity hundred billion years and I’ll be dying in a retirement home before he gets back.

Charlie sighed and dragged a hand down his face.

He could see his daughter, sleeping peacefully on the couch, her head resting atop her bicep. She was covered in a many flowered blanket, from the neck down.

He felt like such a fuckwit for not checking her room… but… he hadn’t wanted to invade her privacy. And she told him, she was at Alice’s house. She only ever left her room when he was sleeping.

Of course she’s in the fucking house, you moron. Thought Charlie. She hasn’t spoken to Alice in years.

107.

John was currently naked in a dog cage, eating spaghetti Bolognese out of a dog bowl with a knife and fork, he was watching the cultist drill another lock into the door. There was passcodes, padlocks, even finger print scanners that had to be bypassed before you were permitted to leave the house. His iPhone and iPad been disemboweled of all the relevant data, then smashed to bits with a hammer. Suzi had locked away his laptop in a safe, and only ever used it when she needed to use the internet (using one of the cultists to plug her in).

Entry to THE COMPUTER ROOM was constantly guarded by knife-wielding, diaper-wearing acolytes. Suzi of course, never had to sleep, and could watch the security footage constantly.

One of the rottweilers licked the side of John’s face. At first John had been very afraid of being trapped with the rabid man eating dogs, but they were actually just sweethearts and only became dangerous if you looked in their eyes.

Another dog dove into his meal, and started necking the Bolognese.

‘HEY!’ shouted John. ‘THAT’S MY FUCKING-‘ cultist looked at John. ‘Woof! Woof!’ finished John.

The man that used to be John and was now Suzi’s bitch forfeited his supper, and figured he’d just go hungry tonight.

Thing 1 and Thing 2, were both at the kitchen table, wearing latex gloves, counting spaghetti hoops, and putting them in buckets.

‘264… 265…266.’

‘Check this out.’ Thing 1 pulled out his phone and showed it to Thing 2.

It was Instagram. Someone (a Suzanite) had pierced his face, with a thousand little holes, so it looked like he was wearing a tight-knit grid of mosquito bites.

Thing 2 whistled.

‘I know right.’ Said Thing 1.

‘Must have hurt.’

‘I think he must have misinterpreted some of the text from the super testament, thought all that chatter and sacred text was about making everybody holy and whole was about making everybody into holes.’

‘So is his face like that forever? Ha! That’s so stupid. Who’d make a mistake like that?’ 

‘This fuckwit apparently. He did it voluntarily to himself though, so… I can’t summon much sympathy. He just posts videos on Instagram, preaching the holy book. It looks like it hurts, but he has some laughing gas. And keeps huffing on it, so it can’t be that bad.’  

‘How many you on?’

‘Uh five hundred.’

‘How many did Suzi ask for?’

John watched the key hanging from the coat hook.

If he could grab it, and just fucking run as fast as he possibly could. He could find the police, he could wear clothes again, he could get his entire life back, if he could just snatch that key.

Thing 2 was eyeballing John.

‘I kind of want to use my garbage soaker.’ Said Thing 2.

‘Be my guest.’ Said Thing 1, still counting his spaghetti hoops as Suzi commanded.

Thing 2 got up, pulled up a super soaker, which was leaking with fermented garbage juice (the stuff that comes dripping from the bottom of overloaded trashbags) and walked over to the dog kennel’s and said: ‘Suzi’s bitch?’ Suzi’s bitch didn’t know what to do, just looked at the man though the mesh. ‘Hey Suzi’s bitch, I think I’m gunna spray on you, if you don’t want me to do that, speak now.’ Suzi’s bitch shook his head. ‘What is that, sign language?’

‘Sign language for dogs.’ Said Thing 1.

‘Can you speak English, please, Suzi’s bitch?’ said Thing 2.

‘Woof?’ said John, panicked.

‘I think he’s asking you to spray on him.’ Said Thing 1.

John shook his head. ‘Woof, woof.’ He stammered.

‘Just say “no” if you don’t want me to hit you with fermented garbage piss, otherwise I’m gunna spray you.’ Said Thing 2.

John said nothing.

‘Alright he’s asking for it.’ Said Thing 1, ‘let there be green rains.’

Thing 2 pumped the soaker.

‘Open wide, Suzi’s bitch, you fucking animal, subhuman freak.’

John clutched his mouth like the speak-no-evil monkey.

‘I SAID OPEN WIDE!’ as Thing 2 aimed the water pistol.

John shook his head.

‘BITCH, DID I STUTTER!’

‘You didn’t stutter.’ Said Thing 1, tapping his temple. ‘I was listening the whole time and remember everything.’

‘DRINK MY GARBAGE PISS!’

John shook his head.

‘Just paint him, he’s asking for it.’

‘What’s happening?’ Missy asked as she walked into the room.

‘Oh hey, little girl.’ Said Thing 1. ‘We’re subjugating your father.’

‘DRINK IT!’

‘Woof!’ the sound came out muffled by John’s hands, but he meant it to sound like Missy, call the police.

‘What’s garbage piss?’ asked Missy.

‘It’s a sort of energy drink.’ Said Thing 1.

‘Oh.’ Said Missy. ‘Okay…’ she paused. ‘Can I go over to Jennifer’s house, dad?’

‘Ask Suzi.’ said Thing 1.

‘Okay, um,’ she turned towards what used to be her father, and gave a wave ‘have fun being sub-gah-gated, dad.’

‘WOOF!’ John screamed, when he got sprayed with energy drink. ‘Aaaaaaaaaah!’ John screamed.

108.

‘Holy shit.’ Said the doctor, looking into the depths of her iPad.

‘Is there a problem?’ asked Lady Rothschild, getting dressed in her hospital gown, bundling up her hair into a hair net. There was the latex bed; right next to it was the octopus robot surgeon, it’s metallic limbs hovering over the bed.  

The doctor was wearing scrubs and a mask, glasses. She gave Lady Rothschild a gander.

‘You ordered the glamor, glitter, diamond, platinum, love-a-lot, big tit, big ass special?’

‘Um… sounds about right, yeah.’ Lady lay down on the bed.

‘You’re sure?’ asked the doctor, she asked turning her iPad over to Lady so she could see exactly what that entailed.

Lady skim-read: big ass, double d’s, general trimming, botox injections, lip stiffening, ultra-thin thinnification liposuction, blah blah blah so on so forth. Jesus christ there was multiple pages of modifications. She didn’t have to read all of them, did she?

‘Yup that’s everything I ordered.’

‘Do you want to read that again?’ Said the Doctor.

‘Look where do I sign?’

‘Look, like…’ the doctor said. ‘I’m a woman, I think every lady should be in the body that makes them happy, that’s why I do what I do. I like making people beautiful and I want to give you the body you want, but this seems… a little extreme don’t you think?’

‘I said where do I sign?’

The doctor dragged a hand down her face.

‘Sure, sure.’ She fished in the kangaroo pouch of her scrubs and pulled out a stylus. She handed the iPad and stylus over, ‘just sign at the bottom.’

There wasn’t any hesitation, she just flourished her name into the contract.

Despite the speed she signed away her body, she didn’t really want to change, she just… wanted some company. She didn’t want to be abandoned a second time, she wanted to be loved and cherished. She wanted to feel like a real human being, not some lousy sex toy for men to hump and dump. She was scared Robert would leave her; Robert was the most perfect man, she had ever met, and she should be willing to have surgery for him.

I will do anything for love, she thought. So she signed her name and she signed her name and she signed her name. I want to be a human being. There is nothing more noble, than changing your entire appearance because you’re scared of being alone.

‘Okay, just huff and puff on this-‘ the doctor produced an oxygen mask tethered to a cannister of sleeping gas. ‘It’ll send you to the land of nod, and we can get started.’  

109.

Victoria leaned her face towards the mirror, pinched her zit, a tear drop of puss spilled out.

Victoria, said the pimple, kill me if you must, but surely a hyper intelligent being such as yourself, can see the advantages of letting me swell to the size of a cantaloupe and transforming your entire face into a massive zit; consider a utopia where I use your body as a breeding ground for all sorts of infections, blow you up like a bouncy castle filled with milk white slime, a massive zit cluster that takes up the entire room.

Victoria sighed and the pimple detonated.

She wiped the residue off the glass with a slice of toilet paper.

110.

Victoria walked into the kitchen and was suddenly very confused.

Charlie, who was smoking a cigarette, clarified the situation.

‘My friends are all assholes, so I bought a bird to replace them.’

The bird twittered in its cage.

‘He’s a parakeet.’ He said. ‘He was on sale and only cost five dollars, so I don’t feel guilty at all.’  

Victoria didn’t mention that he’d have to keep buying bird feed.

‘Oh, okay. Cool.’ Said Victoria, she was suddenly awkward, there was a temporary lull in the conversation where nothing could be heard but the buzzing of lightbulbs. ‘I just wanted to say sorry.’

‘What for?’ he said sarcastically.

Victoria swallowed.

‘For worrying you.’ Said Victoria. ‘I… the drugs… the Axetaline… it fucked up my brain chemistry or something. I’m sorry.’

The devil made me do it, said a whiny voice at the back of her head, what a pathetic excuse.

Charlie took the cigarette out his mouth, and crumpled it into the ash tray.

‘Do you know,’ he began, ‘how horrifying it is, to see your only daughter…. the daughter you love more than anything in the world… your daughter with a history of suicidal fantasies… do you know how horrible it is to watch your daughter disappear off the face of the earth for four days? And you have no idea what happened to her.’ Victoria was quiet. ‘Well,’ he continued. ‘do you?’

‘No.’

‘You’re right, you don’t. I do.’

‘Dad, I-‘

‘Let me finish.’ He said. ‘Let me finish the story for fuck sake.’ Victoria noticed that the crumpled cigarette was one of many crumpled cigarettes, littering the ash tray. ‘Ever since the shower incident, I have had the same nightmare every day. Ask me what the nightmare is.’

‘What’s the nightmare, daddy?’

‘I’m at your fucking funeral.’ He said. ‘And every time, the nightmare gets a little bit longer than the night before. It becomes just a little bit more agonizing. The worst one was when the priest forced me to bury you. It is my worst fear that one day I will wake up, and you won’t be alive anymore. That I will be all alone. So when you see your only daughter, the daughter you love more than anything in the world, your suicidal daughter disappear off the face of the earth for four days, YOU LOSE YOUR FUCKING MIND!’ he screamed.

‘I’m-‘

‘Let me FINISH!’ Victoria shut up immediately. ‘And when I came to check on you, because I was worried you might be dead, you said: “SoRrry yoU couLdn’t help, DaD.” But I knew I couldn’t help, I didn’t know HOW to help, but you didn’t have to say it like that. You didn’t have to make fun of me.’ Victoria was quiet. ‘If you want to say something you can.’

‘I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you. I-I-I wasn’t trying to make fun of you, I swear to god. Dad, I’m not gunna kill myself, I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear it on everything. I’m so sorry.’

They were both quiet.

Charie wiped his hands down his face.

He took a deep breath.

‘Fuck I don’t know what to say next.’ He said.

Another silence.

‘What’s the bird’s name?’ asked Victoria.

The parakeet that had been on the ground, both wings tented above its head during the shouting match, poked its head out and tweeted.

‘Birdy.’ Said Charlie.

‘You called your bird, birdy?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s a good name.’ said Victoria. ‘Fitting.’ Another long pause. ‘I can make a sweet and sour tonight, if that’s what you want.’

‘Sure. I can help.’

‘Dad this isn’t some simple Mac and cheese, we’re talking about this is sweet and sour. It’s too dangerous for you.’

Dad smiled. ‘Can I help in spirit?’

‘I have a pair of pom-poms you can use.’

He chuckled.  ‘Okay. And um,’ he gulped. ‘sorry… if I yelled at you.’

‘It’s fine, I- get it.’

‘Anyway,’ said Victoria. ‘can you call the doctors so I can get started on the next medication we’re gunna try. I’m gunna call work and tell ‘em why I haven’t showed up in the past five days.’

‘Wait,’ said Charlie, his brow furrowed. ‘You haven’t called work?’

‘No, not really.’ Said Victoria. Then realized what he had realized. ‘They wouldn’t be angry at me, would they?’

‘Um…’          

111.

Victoria started reading her text messages. ‘Uh oh.’

Katy – her boss had also been trying to call her.

Victoria, it is completely okay if you’re ill, but you need to tell us. We were understaffed yesterday, and I was relying on you to pick up the slack. Next time call us and explain any mitigating circumstances.

Victoria, again; explain any mitigating circumstances before taking time off work, you’re current behavior is unacceptable, and must stop immediately.

Victoria I-

‘Shit, shit, shit.’

Victoria called her boss.

‘Katy, hi, it’s Victoria I –‘

‘Where the hell have you been?’

‘At home, I’ve been on this drug called Axetaline, it’s been fucking with my brain and I’ve just been stuck on the floor the last five days.’

‘But you can’t just do that Victoria, you need to tell us about any mitigating circumstances; we have a duty of care to our employees, if you’re sick we need to know otherwise we think you’ve been hit by a bus or something.’

‘I’m sorry, look I’ll work overtime.’

‘It’s too late now!’ said Katy. ‘The damage has been done. Look, I like you Victoria but this just isn’t acceptable behavior. Just don’t come back to the shop.’

‘But I like working at the shop!’ she lied.

‘Why do I care?’ said Katy.

‘Please, just… just one more chance,’ stop speaking like a cliché. ‘I was… really ill, like too ill to pick up the phone. I’ll come in and work weekends.’

‘We’re not even open on weekends.’

‘I-‘

‘Goodbye Victoria.’

Katy hung up.

Her dad walked in and he passed her his phone. 

She put the phone to her ear.

‘I just lost my job.’ Said Victoria to the phone, leaning her forehead against the wall, eyes clenched shut.

‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’ Said the doctor. ‘Anyway-‘

They babbled meaninglessly for a couple minutes.

‘Okay, I suggest you wait for a week, let the Axetaline get flushed out your system, then we can talk about trying something else. Sorry the drug affected you so badly, sometimes that happens.’

Fuck you, she thought, you could have told me the Axetaline could leave me paralyzed on the floor for days. I just lost my job because of this! 

Victoria made her meaningless depressed person sounds.  

‘Alright take care.’ Said the doc.

She took a moment to breathe, pinched the bridge of her nose and then called Jeremy.

‘Victoria?’ he said. ‘Victoria, I think the corporations are going to commit genocide.’

‘I really don’t want to hear about that, Jeremy. Can we just meet up some place and chat? We could get coffee or ice cream and whatever. Also I lost my job.’

There was a silence.

‘Okay where abouts?’ he continued.

‘Um, there’s this really cool park nearby.

‘By the river?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, then lets go. Meet up at my place and we can walk there at… three?’

The conversation cycled down to its conclusion.

She hung up.

‘Hey Vick,’ said Charlie, as he fed the bird. ‘I know its shit losing your job, I was exactly where you are last year when I got pink-slipped. I recommend, getting a hobby. It helped me, and keeps your feet superglued to reality.’ Charlie looked up at the ceiling. ‘That came out wrong. What I mean to say, is hobbies are good for your mental health, and… it might make you feel better.’ He smiled.

Victoria smiled nervously and vowed then and there to send a CV to KFC as quickly as possible.

***

Chapter 16