I was driving home from a Relaxafarian Assembly Hall where I spent four hours typing up an emotional review of my emotions. I spent under three hundred dollars on a small serving of Relax-Aid that I slowly snorted for all of those hours to earn my hard-earned Relaxation amongst my assembled brethren.
I was feeling a little “hungry” and drove by Show Business Burrito Hut and said to myself:
No! Don’t spend money on their delicious edible insect ‘fuzion’ berry-burritos. Just go home and ‘relax’ and pray to the Insect King for guidance. Besides, there’s some crackers left on the table anyway, and they have probably attracted some ‘critters’ by now! Actually, there’s some non-wooden board-aged cheese slices left…I can put that on the ‘crackers’! And macrowave it! And then…it’ll be quesadelicioso!!
I had three ShadeCoins left in my identocard. I had been doing well with eating healthy in exchange for serving as a non-voluntary medical test subject for the Western Technocratic Alliance. I’ve been eating non-wooden board-aged cheese as much as I could after the official ban came through, which is why my inner ecosystem of microflora is so “broke” all the time.
But Show Business Burrito Hut quesadillas…oh, that weird smell when you first pull up to the “drive-through”! I couldn’t get it out of my Gimgle cache. My assisted-imagination device already tasted it on my virtual tongue. Halfway home I decided to “flip” a “U,” (haha, a “uni-turn” for all you squares) and go get me a Mr. Dick Greid’s Special Cricket Cheezadilla! I rolled up to the orbital service platform, opened a hailing frequncy, and lowered my voice an octave to begin chanting the OpenQNL order sequence SBBH originally became “famous for.”
>Query SBBH.Bot for state activity
SBBH.Bot> Query Accepted. State: Awaiting Client Command
SBBH.Bot: Anything to ‘drink’ with that?
I gleeked into my warm half empty water bottle, swigged it back down, and continued my summoning sequence.
>End command sequence.
SBBH.Bot> Command terminated. State: “Thank you, come again!”
I can’t remember what I was thinking before I was thinking about what I was remembering. Probably still reeling from worrying about rembering, daydreaming about worrying or worrying about unthinking. I got to the order fulfillment kiosk. There was the SBBH.Bot with my sweet little patented Dick Greid’s Bio-Destructible Insectoid Edible Packaging Unit housing one jucious morsel of Cricket Cheezadilla.
I tried to insert my identocard into the appropriate ‘payment slot’ but a prompt line opened in my awareness…
SBBH.Bot> Payment declined.
> Query WTF?
SBBH.Bot> State: “You have won (1) free Cricket Cheezadilla from Dick Greid’s Show Business Burrito Hut. By accepting this limited time offer ‘You’ are hereby contractually obligated to advertise this fact to your ‘friends’ on ‘Social Media’. If you do not have any friends, you will be charged the full amount.”
> Accept contract terms
SBBH.Bot> State: “Please ‘enjoy’ your (1) free Cricket Cheezadilla”
I had the three ShadeCoins in my identocard. I looked to Heaven but my benefactor was invisible. I looked at the three ShadeCoins in my identocard. I queried the client queue to see if this was a “joke” but was pushed out by other users with higher social ratings than mine. I should ‘buy’ their food, I thought laughing at my own thinking. Reflecting back on this reflection, the emotion tied to it was extremely emotional. (We won’t get into the can of worms here, because at (5)ShadeCoins I wasn’t able to afford Dick Greid’s Famous Canned Worms Cola.)
My Inner.HelpDesk() informed me that I had better “hurry up” as my “ingestion window” would soon be closing for this Cricket Cheezadilla.
I accepted the free cheezadilla, and put it next to the recombinant-DNA passenger pigeon sitting next to me.
“Don’t eat it!” I told her.
“Okay,” I eased off. “I’ll throw a couple cheezy crickets your way.”
She cooed softly.
I drove towards the coast instead of home. And I sobbed while my passenger pigeon cooed reassuringly. The fact that the Western Technocratic Alliance’s Synchronicity Engine which Dick Greid’s Show Business Burrito Hut was surely running on its “back-end” had randomly chosen me for a free Cricket Cheezadilla “blew my mind.” Because I don’t believe in randomness, but in the ordering power of a grid of interlinked algorithmically-governed technological societies governed by an all-knowing but ultimately “unknowable” Emergent Intelligence—and as a practicing Relaxafarian, I knew that this man (Dick Greid, blessed be his name!™ ) who bought me (1) free Cricket Cheezadilla was the WTA confirming the existence of “goodness” in a troubled world, and teaching me to accept free products in order to further their “brand image”.
My mind went into a ‘spiral’ wondering who this person was, this Dick Greid. Maybe I did know him, finally in my heart—the core of my being… at an operational layer below even my Inner.Helpdesk()? Who gave Dick Greid the right to change my life forever by offering me (1) free Cricket Cheezadilla?
I parked my car in a lot over looking the white cliffs of the Pantartic Sea. TimeLords whirled around my sunroof, awaiting their “fair share.” I trembled, sensing the nearness at hand of Dick Greid’s unfathomable love… The tears streamed down my face and into my existomouth, where I drank them greedily. The taste of my own suffering only sweetened the natural sweetness imparted by the industrial grilling processes of the cricket packing facility. When I took slow and deliberate bites of cheezadilla, I contemplated slipping the car into neutral and rolling over the cliffs into infinity at this moment, the height of my experience as an entity.
“You must fulfill the terms of your contract,” my passenger pigeon cooed in its own style of pidgin-English
“You’re right, of course!” I moaned, and rewarded her with two grilled crickets.
My fingers were slick with cricket grease, and that amazing weird smell swept me up like a draft of macrowave energy piercing my reproductive organs and changing my capacity for regeneration. I watched the tv set installed on my steering wheel. I pressed the button and the spinning wheels lined up perfectly into three pink peaches. The GamblOracle was kind to me. Many people would “like” my status update, it suggested.
I sat with all of this cricket meat expanding inside of me, and began to consume the Edible Insectoid Packaging (something I’m still getting used to doing—I wish the package came with more sauce!). I’m savoring every bite, re-tweeking every flavor analysis performed by my Gimgle goblins, and wondering out loud: Who Will Be The Next Lucky Winner?
Stop by one of Dick Greid’s Fabulous Show Business Burrito Hut Showrooms to find out today!
The next (1) free Cricket Cheezadilla could be yours!