“This schism you have described, is well documented in the archives of my people, almost as if you had been the one writing those words down on paper, which brings me to the question, did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Did you write down the words you used, the words you described the schism to me just now?”
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters, otherwise I would have never asked. Now, again, did you write them down anywhere?”
“O-O-Only on my blog,” Andy says with a nervous stammer.
“What, is this blog you speak of? Can you take me to it?”
He laughs softly. “I don’t need to take you anywhere, it’s everywhere!”
“Everywhere?” he asks as he looks around the room in bewilderment. “Is it in this room with us now?”
“It’s everywhere, wherever there is an internet signal anyway.”
“The internet, I have heard of this word, is it not how you communicated in the early days of the twenty-second century?”
“Its much more than a communication device, it’s everything and anything you want it to be, and my blog is one there.”
“W-What do you do with this blog?”
“I share everything and anything I want, with whoever wants to see it. I share reviews on food, movies, and world events as well as whatever else stumbles through my brain at the time. I can be whoever I want, and say whatever I want, however I want. It is my place, and if you don’t like it, I’ll block your arse!” he says proudly with a head nod as he folds his arms across his chest.
“Are you a sayer?”
“One who sees things others do not, is that your place, is that why you dress in torn clothing and dresses?”
“WHAT? IT’S NOT A DRESS BOY! ITS AN OODIE! ONE OF THE MOST COMFORTABLE PIECES OF CLOTHING EVER MADE! ARE YOU TELLING ME, THAT WHERE YOU COME FROM YOU DON’T HAVE OODIES?”
“No, no we don’t have Oodies, or the internet, or blogs for that matter.”
“Where the FUCK did you say you were from again?”
“I said it wasn’t important, as it still is not.”
“Shit boy, what the FUCK do you have where you come from then?”
“We have the hope that one day the sayer will come and see our way home, from where we are lost.”
“Take my advice on this one boy, if it’s such a shit hole, maybe going back ain’t the smartest move to be doing, why don’t you stay here for a while, until you get yourself back on your feet of course, then, maybe you can send some money home and help out that way.”
He smiles softly, “While the thought of staying here with you and your internets and oldies does sound wonderful, I promised those I left behind that I would return with help, with a sayer, one who will lead us back home.” he says as twists his arm around to reveal a strange watch like device attached to the underside of his wrist.
“What the FUCK kind of Fitbit is that?”
“This is no Fitbit, it’s a asPhonePureXII, modified of course,” he says as he twists its face, and a ball of nothingness opens up before them.
“W-W-What the F-FUCK is that?”
“That’s my way home, now grab as many Oodies and as much internet as you can Sayer, cause you’re coming with me!”
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