Futurismic has posted its latest story, "The Jiminy Device," by Lisa Mantchev and it's one of the finest comic stories they've posted to date. It's the story of a kind of hyper-Paris-Hilton who is attended by an entourage of sycophantic primpers, whose antics results in her total dispossession and the implantation of a digital conscience device. It's a sweet, short, funny little story, with lots of laugh-out-loud techno-speculation:
Shock and disbelief clouded London's brow (despite the neurotoxin injections) as she stared at her lover. Marcel only shrugged. When one of his people scribbled a note and handed it to him, he read it cold.
"We're drifting apart. It's not you, it's me." He took the cigarette out of his mouth and glared at the hapless scriptwriter. She withered visibly behind her cheap haircut. "This is what I pay you for?" He shook his head and his stylist adjusted the tousled locks with a comb.
London sniffed, trying to muster some tears. Her special effects guy produced a squirt bottle of saline when she couldn't quite manage it on her own. Her personal trainer (Tony… or was it Toby?) glared at Marcel. "You can't leave me. I'm an heiress for god's sake. I'm leaving you."
Neil and Susanna, their respective PR generals, glowered at each other. Index fingers hovered over cell phones, ready to speed-dial the Associated Press.
(Thanks, Jeremy!)
