The Rising Dawn, # 10— "General Irritation"

[Short stories. Images generated by hotpot.ai]

“What exactly do you do, again?” said Gamer. Even in Freedom Tower, he usually could be found wearing pajamas, considering them his ‘work clothes’. However, as of now, he looked like a teen with special needs, his shirt conveying an obscure web comic reference. Perhaps he was waiting for the schoolbus.

“My name is Parse,” said Parse, “my Normy name is Emerald Jennison. I acquire and dissect information with supernatural speed.” “How does that work?” said Gamer, as though not convinced it was useful, or even real. “Your scientific journal could be approximately forty-seven pages shorter,” she began.

Gamer balked.

“The necessary lynchpin of the Gamerverse is woefully glossed over, whereas you inflated the rest with discussion of things that merely imply the lynchpin, which is that you essentially hack minds with, well… a real Gift.” “Thanks for that last part,” said Gamer, disheartened and annoyed. “Does gaming help you create the Gamerverse?” asked Parse. “Kinda,” he said, “But it’s more like… Idunno. A drug.” “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Gamer flexed his larynx, which activated his mind-hack. A series of soundbytes, movie references, fragments of music, record scratchings and incomprehensible backwards dialogue escaped his throat at unnatural speeds.

Parse began to see visions of the world Gamer had created.

“I see. Pinball. Everything is pinball. It says ‘Insert Coin’. Are you inviting me to play with you?” “Apparently, yes,” said Gamer, “I never see the Gamerverse.” “I can see why you call it that.” He sulked. “It would probably be something lamer if I never played videogames,” he said, as if convincing himself not to be depressed. Parse smiled, “Brighten up. You got a pretty girl with you.” Gamer smiled, as if unused to smiling. “I guess if I’m being honest, I could hack the whole world and I’d still mess it up in a relationship.” “Everyone here has a relationship with everyone, unless they never met.” Gamer rubbed his eyes. “Isn’t there another meaning, though?” “If people paid more attention to words, you wouldn’t be like this.” This seemed to loosen Gamer’s chest. He coughed a healthy cough. “Maybe that should be my next project.” “Vert ambitious,” said Parse.

Ratcatcher was heard before he was seen. He was singing “Cherry Bomb,” but the only part he knew was “hello dad, hello mom, I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-CHERRY BOMB.” Intermittently, he would leave out “hello dad” and “hello mom” and just sing the “cherry bomb”, complete with the cha chas.

“Great. Another earworm,” said Gamer. “I get excited,” she said, moving her arms to the “words” of Cherry Bomb. “CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHA CHERRY BOMB! CHERRY BOMB!! CHERRY BOMB.”

The one sometimes called the Pied Piper sauntered in.

“There! Someone’s feelin’ me. Cherry bomb. That’s what I keep telling people, but does anyone listen? No, they just think about themselves.” Parse carried on, “CHERRY BOMB! CHERRY BOMB!” “What kind of selection is that?” said Gamer accusingly. “Well, kid, when you’re me, you learned that you just sing what you feel like.” Parse moved her arms more and trolled Gamer. “CHERRY BOMB! CHERRY BOMB! CHERRY BOMB!” “Enough!!” growled Reggie. “I can sympathize. But not regret it,” said Rat, smirking. “I thought you had superpowered singing,” said Gamer, “That was pretty much crap.” “Right you are!” said Ratcatcher, “But that’s the point of practice. You gotta push your larynx.” “Huh,” said Gamer, “I guess I pretty much already knew that.” “Your larynx! That’s what he calls it,” said Parse. Gamer sulked. “I feel like I need to play a stressful war-game, which is somehow the way I unwind,” he said. “You do you, man,” said Ratcatcher. “Stay with us!” said Parse. “I wanna hear about your games.” “You mean the Gamerverse?” said Gamer. “Just anything. Whatever’s there.” “I… have anxiety about talking about my games. It feels like, Idunno, most people don’t care.” “Ramble on, my friend,” said Ratcatcher, then drinking a copious amount of water from a bottle. “Sometimes the stupidest things are great inspiration.” “You can say that again,” said Gamer.

A short while after that, everyone in the group, including Parse, stopped using the words, ‘cherry bomb’.