{"id":2557,"date":"2023-10-14T14:07:43","date_gmt":"2023-10-14T21:07:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2557"},"modified":"2023-10-15T11:33:20","modified_gmt":"2023-10-15T18:33:20","slug":"shitpost","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/10\/14\/shitpost\/","title":{"rendered":"Shitpost"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: You\u2019re awakened from your nap by someone asking, \u201cAre you hungry?\u201d. You fell asleep somewhere else entirely.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something, a noise, probably, almost woke me from my nap. I took a deep breath to let myself fall back into sleep, when it came again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A voice, right next to me, \u201cAre you hungry?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I jolted upright, hitting my head on the upper bunk, grabbed my head and rolled away from the source of voice only for my king-sized bed to come to a sudden end and I fell entirely too far to a hard floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What upper bunk?<\/em> I wondered. Where is my carpet? Why is my bed so small and high?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

My head throbbed, my right shoulder was bruised, at the very least, along with my right knee, and I landed with my hip on my right hand in an odd position. The sharp pain from my wrist, shooting into my fingers made me fear I\u2019d broken something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I removed my hand from under my hip \u2014 gingerly \u2014 and forced my eyes open to assess the damage. My knuckles were red, and my wrist made a painful sort of clunking as I tested out the range of motion. Okay, not broken, I just re-aggravated my carpal tunnel syndrome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you hurt?\u201d the voice asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah! Shit!\u201d I looked around. I was on a metal floor, a triple bunk bed next to me, and a speaker on the wall near the middle bunk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wait, this must be a dream. I must be laying on my hand weird and the dream is trying to account for the pain. But my head? Never mind. WAKE UP!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That didn\u2019t work. I stood, saw my phone laying on the middle bunk, and grabbed it to check the time. It felt light, like the battery had been removed, but it was still working. Less than an hour after I\u2019d lay down to nap, and zero bars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It felt like I\u2019d fallen off a roof, but the middle bunk was only shoulder height. I did a little jump and hit my poor, abused head on the ceiling and barely managed to stick the landing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was in too much pain now to think I was still dreaming. \u201cWhere the hell am I?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou are here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFunny, asshole. You interrupted my sleep. I nap three hours in the afternoon and three at night. Now my schedule\u2019s going to be all jacked and you better have a good reason.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wall opposite the bunk bed split open and sort of\u2026disappeared. I don\u2019t know what I was expecting, but it wasn\u2019t what standing there. I wished \u2014 for a brief moment \u2014 that it was a prank, someone in a suit. It couldn\u2019t be though, because the proportions were\u2026wrong<\/em>. Tall, stick-thin, two legs, two long arms with three-fingered hands coming from too far forward on the chest, two more, longer, coming from behind, ending in cruel, knife-like points.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What I guessed were mouthparts at the bottom of its face were surrounded by fractal-branched appendages that extended, waved in the air, then withdrew again, like a collection of tiny sea anemones. Apart from the weird, fractal organs, the only other visible sensory organ was the collection of at least a dozen compound eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat the fuck are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Its chest vibrated and it made an odd, warbling whistle, followed by the voice coming from the speaker again. \u201cI am an envoy from my people, the __, and we need your assistance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe what now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It made a high, sustained whistle, and the speaker repeated it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNon-translatable, I guess. Do you have a name?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A complicated whistle was followed by the same on the speaker.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs it okay if I call you Pat? I don\u2019t know whether you\u2019re male or female or neither\/both, but it\u2019s a name that works for any.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat is an acceptable moniker.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCool Pat, nice to meet you\u2026I think? I\u2019m Justice, but I go by Jay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat is also acceptable. My people require your assistance, Jay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked past Pat, the walking nightmare, to the area behind him\/her\/it. It looked like a spaceship set for a Cameron movie; everything made sense where it was, down to the smallest detail, and everything looked worn from use. The only part that didn\u2019t jibe was the horror show in the windows\u2026screens?\u2026whatever. If that\u2019s what faster-than-light travel looks like, we\u2019ll never get it right in the movies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI, uh, shit. What kind of help could you want?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe need the assistance you have provided your own kind. Our war with the __ is not going well, and we are in danger of losing a key wormhole gate.\u201d The little anemones around its mouth-parts waved in frantic spasms as it spoke those words, then retreated for several uncomfortable seconds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was about to ask again, when hundreds of social media and forum posts and comments began flashing in the air behind Pat. \u201cHow did you trace any of that to me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour networks are simple. We\u2019ve been watching thousands of you, looking for the ones that can turn the tides of war.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat.The.Fuck?!\u201d I shook my head. \u201cDo you know what I do?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou influence others, build or destroy morale, often arguing with yourself, allowing one version to win over the other in order to show the superiority of the logic or morals of the winning position.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. I shitpost. That\u2019s all I do. I get paid to troll social media and forums, and I push whatever agenda I\u2019m getting paid to push. That\u2019s it. I don\u2019t believe ninety-nine percent of what I post.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJay\u2026.\u201d Pat seemed to be lost in thought. Its knife-arms folded on themselves. \u201cThis is acceptable,\u201d it finally said. \u201cThis reduces the need to show the morality of our position.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I thought about it. I\u2019d be missing some of my current jobs, but a few trolls, stalwarts, and social justice warriors disappearing for a while wasn\u2019t a big deal. I\u2019d have to come up with excuses for them and bring them back online at different times, but I had practice at that. While I was contemplating, my stomach rumbled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know what, Pat? I am<\/em> hungry. Show me to a computer, give me some food and caffeine and let me see what\u2019s going on with your war before I get started.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pat led me to a chair in the cockpit-type area, that adjusted itself for my size and shape. A standard, QWERTY keyboard swung in front of me. It was a mechanical keyboard, not my favorite, but I could use it. I didn\u2019t know what was involved in translating their language to English, and my input to their language, but their network was easy to navigate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I knew Pat had been watching me for a while when he set a hot microwave breakfast burrito, a bag of extra-spicy tortilla chips, and a cold can of energy drink next to me. \u201cThanks, Pat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhatever you require for payment, we will gladly provide.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I took a bite of the burrito, then stopped. \u201cWait. How did you get me here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour gravity is too strong for me to carry you, so I had to use a tractor beam to pull you aboard and put you in the bed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWait, how did you get me out of my house?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe roof lifted off easily in the beam. I am very sorry, but it did not settle back down properly. I fear your domicile is damaged. We will pay for repair, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d I perused the network for a while longer, before pulling my wrist brace out of my waist band and strapping it on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt helps with my carpal tunnel,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pat seemed to either understand or just decided to let it go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I cracked my knuckles \u2014 which made its little anemones spasm and hide again \u2014 then took a deep breath and dove into a forum to begin my new job. It was the official news run by the other side\u2019s military and allowed public comments\u2026stupid of them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The keyboard clacked loudly as I typed up a rambling message about weak Pat\u2019s people were. I hoped it was translating my misspellings and bad grammar as well, but had no way to tell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By making the pro-enemy poster a total idiot, it would be simple for my next sock puppet user to tear down every argument with facts, backed by links, then follow up with some exaggerations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is this?\u201d Pat asked. \u201cWhy are you talking up the enemy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWait until you see the rebuttal,\u201d I said. \u201cThis is just a shitpost.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: You\u2019re awakened from your nap by someone asking, \u201cAre you hungry?\u201d. You fell asleep somewhere else entirely. available at Reedsy Something, a noise, probably, almost woke me from my nap. I took a deep …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2557","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/sxT7i-shitpost","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2557","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2557"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2557\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2560,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2557\/revisions\/2560"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2557"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2557"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2557"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}