I never should have moved into this duplex. I\u2019m the only woman here, surrounded by men. Holding down two jobs after being promoted to produce manager at the grocery store, I work double shifts at Wendys on the weekends. Every Friday evening, I check on my sick mother, who lives twenty miles away. Since Saturday is trash day and my neighbors expect me to bag their garbage and haul it to the dumpster, I haul their trash and mine at night after visiting my mother.\u00a0If I don\u2019t, the flies, the maggots, the rats, the mice, the stray cats, and the raccoons take over the duplex\u2019s shared porch.<\/p>\n
I missed it this week. I got tired and just couldn\u2019t, and now it\u2019s piled up so high that I just can\u2019t even think about doing it again.<\/p>\n
As the trash creeps outside the duplex and more animals arrive after sundown, it\u2019s like Wild Kingdom outside my windows. I\u2019ve started to enjoy the free show, since my TV broke, and I can\u2019t afford a new one. Raccoons collect pizza slices, moldy bagels, and soggy donuts with their tiny, muscular hands. A sitting possum holds a giant cookie, nibbling casually as its babies collect the crumbs.<\/p>\n
I trip over the trash piled outside my door and crash into a takeout bag that explodes with ripe stenches and a maggot mass. Holding my nose, I refrain from inhaling deeply and opt to agitate my neighbors by screaming, \u201cYou\u2019re a bunch of filthy creeps!\u201d<\/p>\n
Even though their door is open, they ignore the insult. They only speak to each other:<\/p>\n
I need more life. I\u2019m dead. Give me the cheat code.<\/p>\n
No way. No. No, no! Douchie Pooh, no!<\/p>\n
Douchie Pooh, please! Please, Douchie Pooh!<\/p>\n
Who is Douchie Pooh? The skinny one is called Bigeye. His fake twin is called Wakie-Wakie. There\u2019s a guy named Slutpox who shows up, along with a childlike dude nicknamed Cunt Machine, who looks like a kid from a distance but is a small, skinny man with removable metal dentures. It took me a while to realize Cunt Machine takes off his dentures in politeness the way old-fashioned gentlemen take off their hats in the presence of a lady. Cunt Machine\u2019s politeness was touching once I got past the horror of seeing his metal teeth in his hand.<\/p>\n
Even though I know better, I can\u2019t resist looking in, standing near the open door. Flies buzz. Pizza boxes and empty soda cups litter the crusted carpet. Big Gulps topple and leak sticky substances that stick to bare feet, toes twitching to flick off the flies.<\/p>\n
Wakie-Wakie yells at Slutpox, sitting next to a new guy called BoxChina.<\/p>\n
Keyboard player! Cheater. Keyboard player.<\/p>\n
These are different dragons. Did they change my dragons? Why? They won\u2019t be able to fight the griffin king.<\/p>\n
Fuck me, fuck me. Fuck me! The griffin king is wack.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m dead. I\u2019m dead. No, wait. Please don\u2019t kill me.<\/p>\n
I walk into their open door and find my neighbors in sweatpants with messy beards lounging on stained furniture. The one called BoxChina is urinating into a mason jar, his eyes glued to the big screen. \u201cAre you okay?\u201d I say. \u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing. Everything is right. Very, very right, my dear,\u201d Cunt Machine says, removing his dentures. \u201cWe got the news.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe never have to work again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood. Maybe you\u2019ll have time to take out the trash now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re funny. Who are you?\u201d the big, tattooed guy asks before motioning to BoxChina for the mason jar.<\/p>\n
\u201cCallie,\u201d I say. \u201cRemember? We\u2019ve spoken before. I live right next to you. On the other side of this wall.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, nice to meet you! I\u2019m Douche Puppet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, Douche Puppet,\u201d I say. \u201cCould you please explain why you play video games all day and night?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s the one game. Okay?\u201d says Douche Puppet. \u201cFor months, we\u2019ve been playing it. We\u2019re going to break the record.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe need to keep playing without leaving the room. Despite having generators hooked up in case of a power outage, things like drinking, eating, sleeping, and going to the bathroom hinder us. We\u2019re coming up with strategies to overcome it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s explaining,\u201d says Cunt Machine, \u201cthat Quota Monkey can\u2019t take a dump for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOne of these days,\u201d says Douche Puppet, \u201csomeone will invent a Quota Monkey that can use the bathroom for you. Until then, we must deal with our own business.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe have to beat Mother Nature with a Quota Monkey,\u201d SlutPox says. \u201cUntil then, I\u2019m a slave to my body. This gorgeous body.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGreat,\u201d I say. \u201cAre you on government assistance?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish.\u201d Douche Puppet laughs and explains a dead man\u2019s promotion and work history after dying has provided publicity for their invention, Quota Monkey, which comes in several options and types, including the Bootlicker, the Fawner, and the Lackey. Known as \u201cfriend makers,\u201d they often produce unexpected results that create lifetime friendships, even romance and marriages, among online communicators.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy haven\u2019t I heard of this Quota Monkey, if it\u2019s so great?\u201d I ask.<\/p>\n
According to Douche Puppet, they never advertise Quota Monkey. It has gone viral on social-media sites where certain former users claim to have gotten an attack of conscience after receiving raises and promotions\u2014raises and promotions they never would have gotten if they had done the work themselves. Fellow employees were fired for not meeting quotas, despite thinking the Quota Monkey users were on their side.<\/p>\n
Slutpox says, \u201cOnly yesterday the news broke about the man who had been promoted to the head of his bank branch, having received a significant pay raise for surpassing all quotas and overseeing over fifty online employees\u2014two years after his funeral.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTestimonials from the dead,\u201d says Douchie.<\/p>\n
\u201cGuys, I\u2019m happy for you,\u201d I say. \u201cBut I can hear everything through that wall.\u201d<\/p>\n
Douchie nods. Like the others, he\u2019s immersed in the game and holding a controller while hooked up to a mic and earphone helmet, eyes glued to a big screen. The game moves through tunnels and highways of hidden gear and devious opponents jumping out behind buildings.<\/p>\n
Bigeye screams bloody murder. These types of screams happen frequently, day and night. It got noisy during the pandemic when I assumed Quota Monkey was like a pet that they nurtured and taught new tricks. They continuously improved it, supplying customers with higher quality ass kissing if they paid for add-ons that could be downloaded for a higher percentage of their salary. The Bootlicker, the Brown-Noser, the Fawner, the Flatterer, the Flunky, the Groveler, and the Ass-Kisser could rarely complete with the results of the Lackey.<\/p>\n
\u201cCould you hand me that remote?\u201d Slutpox says to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat remote?\u201d I ask. \u201cIt\u2019s right in front of you. You can just reach out and grab it yourself, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you get it for me?\u201d<\/p>\n
I retrieve the remote and present it to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cLittle closer,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
I step closer so that our feet are touching, the remote pressing his fingers before he finally takes it from me.<\/p>\n
Doco slumps down in his seat, his eyes rolling back into his head, his hair damp.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoco,\u201d I say, \u201care you okay?\u201d<\/p>\n
He\u2019s shivering and looks like he\u2019s about to pass out.<\/p>\n
\u201cWater,\u201d he says. \u201cWater.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs your water turned off?<\/p>\n
\u201cWater, please. Kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n
In the grimy kitchen, no dishes are present, only plastic cups from gas stations. I turn on the water at the sink, and it runs clear. I clean up a cup and fill it with water and bring the cup to Doco. He grabs the cup and drinks the water in one gulp, coughing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWater. More water. Please,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
I refill the cup with water and bring it to him. He gulps it. We repeat this seven times.<\/p>\n
\u201cAhhhh. Thanks,\u201d he says. \u201cI\u2019ve had nothing to drink for two days.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe game.\u201d<\/p>\n
The game is still going on the big screens. Enemies jump out from behind walls to attack at different locations displayed on the big screens in the living room. Every time there\u2019s a split screen, it turns into a fight for survival. Timing is everything, and even getting up to drink water can get you killed.<\/p>\n
\u201cBoxChina?\u201d I say. \u201cHow\u2019s it going?\u201d<\/p>\n
He doesn\u2019t answer me, but screams into the mouthpiece connected to his earphones.<\/p>\n
I know better than to ask them, but I wonder how avoidant gamers who have little social interaction programmed kindness into software. If programming the warmth of genuine human kindness has made them wealthy, what they\u2019re selling isn\u2019t fake labor, it\u2019s personality\u2014the one thing they don\u2019t have. Think mouse movers or mouse jigglers that add a touch of collegiality, a dash of humor, and tender compassion. The software organizes emails, writes personalized responses, and creates reports. It also makes friends. Essentially, the devices mimic active listening in email and produce smart, genuine responses. Users can program the levels of sweetness, gratitude, pep, and wit.<\/p>\n
Above all, the Ass Kisser 3000 surpasses any human ass-kisser in its ability to kiss ass at a highly advanced level. While out ass kissing any ass kisser, it can also out work a work horse.<\/p>\n
\u201cQuota Monkeys are available on the black market under the names of another type of product marketed for another type of use,\u201d says BoxChina. \u201cQuota Monkeys retrofitted with the Ass Kisser 3000 come free to work-from-home applicants, who pay only if they get results. Payment is made as a lifetime percentage of their salary when work-from-home applicants achieve results such as raises, bonuses, promotions, and\/or new upgraded positions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cClever,\u201d I say, realizing my neighbors rely on Quota Monkeys for various tasks like ordering food, paying rent, and dealing with issues like noise complaints, but Quota Monkeys can\u2019t bag their garbage or haul it to the dumpster.<\/p>\n
Today, the porch we share is blooming with flies, ripe with roaches in rotting fast food, and brimming with something that smells so terrible I\u2019m afraid to imagine what it could be. On one corner of our shared porch, flies swarm masses of maggots in the trash pile.<\/p>\n
\u201cListen, Callie,\u201d Slutpox says to me in his nicest voice, which puts me on edge. Last time he spoke to me like this, he requested I purchase a plunger and then use it to unclog two revoltingly clogged toilets. I called an emergency plumber, and when the plumber saw the bathroom, he said he had to charge extra and wear protective gear because of the biohazard. He also had to use a liquid vacuum.<\/p>\n
\u201cCallie,\u201d Slutpox says, \u201cyou\u2019re really a nice person.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks, Slutpox,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d says Wakie-Wakie, \u201cyou\u2019re the best.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you do us a favor, sweetheart?\u201d says Slutpox. \u201cWe\u2019ll pay you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d says Bigeye, who has small eyes. \u201cYou know we would never ask, but we trust it might even be life or death.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat now?\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you mind changing Douchie\u2019s diaper?\u201d asks Cunt Machine.<\/p>\n
I say, \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDouchie needs a diaper change.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe wears a diaper?\u201d I ask, staring at Douchie, who is about 6\u20193\u201d with prematurely graying hair and copious amounts of cartoonish tattoos. \u201cHim?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe all do,\u201d says Wakie-Wakie. \u201cIt\u2019s not a big deal. Adult diapers are nothing to be ashamed of.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t know,\u201d I say, suddenly realizing what that smell is on the porch.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ve been wearing them for the past year because that way we can keep playing the game when nature calls. It\u2019s not that big of a deal, Callie, except Douchie is having issues.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLike what?\u201d I realize this whole time, when everyone\u2019s talking about his diaper, Douchie hasn\u2019t once looked at any of us or even responded. He doesn\u2019t seem embarrassed or uncomfortable. He doesn\u2019t take his eyes off the game.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you smell something?\u201d asks Slutpox.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo I,\u201d I say. \u201cIs that Douchie?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m getting worried. When it gets this bad for so long, we develop nose blindness and can\u2019t smell it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen why do you need me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause does it smell like a full diaper or like rotting flesh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBoth,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt has been long enough that we\u2019re worried he\u2019s rotting in his diaper. Each diaper is industrial strength, special order, and can hold like twenty pounds. They last a while, but never this long.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDouchie?\u201d I say, thinking about calling 911 or adult protective services.<\/p>\n
\u201cListen, Callie,\u201d Slutpox says. \u201cI know this seems weird or even sexual, but it\u2019s natural and normal and we\u2019re used to it. We\u2019ve all had to do it before, but we can\u2019t deal with him today. We\u2019ll pay you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo way,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n
\u201cTen thousand dollars,\u201d says BoxChina.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwenty thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeriously?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, thirty thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSeriously?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe necessary items are over there,\u201d Slutpox points to a dinette table in the corner of the eat-in kitchen. In grocery bags, I find a box of adult diapers, wet wipes, and sensitive-skin diaper rash cream for babies.<\/p>\n
\u201cThirty thousand?\u201d I say. \u201cYou better not be lying to me, Slutpox.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, I never lie about money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d I say. \u201cJust a minute. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d I go to my duplex and locate rubber gloves. I tie back my hair with rubber hands and wrap my hair in a plastic bag. Finding a mask to cover my mouth and nose, I spray the mask with air freshener and put on goggles with the mask. After putting on my rubber gloves, I return to my neighbors and talk to Douchie in the slow, soothing voice I use with toddlers and animals. \u201cDouchie,\u201d I say. \u201cCome here. Here, Douchie. Here, Douchie, this will just take a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n
Douchie keeps playing the game.<\/p>\n
He has a Mensa level IQ. He\u2019s a millionaire with degrees from MIT and Harvard. He is the designer for each unique Ass-Kisser add-on in the Quota Monkey\u2019s limited edition. He has made a special contribution by limiting the number of unique downloads for sale, ensuring that the distinctive personalities of Ass Kissers Anonymous would not raise suspicion in the corporate world, healthcare, HR, and education sectors where they are widely used. Once he made his first million, he disassociated from the outside world and got deeper into the game. I suspect the diaper thing started after he had at least six million in the bank.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s not going anywhere,\u201d says Bigeye. \u201cDon\u2019t even try to move him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d I say, realizing Douchie might be rotting like a corpse from the waist down, sitting in human soup for days.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s what I\u2019m paying you for,\u201d says Slutpox. \u201cPart of the job is figuring out how.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay.\u201d I go back into my duplex and retrieve the kitchen shears.<\/p>\n
Back in my neighbors\u2019 duplex, where Douchie slumps in his oversized chair, I cover him in black plastic trash bags, which I also slip under his legs and bum. With the kitchen shears, I cut off his crusted sweatpants. The stench is unbearable as the cut diaper spills on the black plastic. Gagging, I grab a beach towel to wipe Douchie down, then I discard the towel, the black plastic, and Douchie\u2019s cut sweatpants, which have melted into the diaper.<\/p>\n
Outside, I grab the garden hose, turn it on low, and drag the hose into the neighbors\u2019 duplex. I hose Douchie down as he sits in this chair, still playing the game as the dirty water drains into the air conditioner vents on the floor. After drying him off with another beach towel, I apply a new diaper.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d I say. \u201cWhen do I receive payment?\u201d<\/p>\n
Douchie Pooh screams: Why did you kill me? Don\u2019t kill me. Don\u2019t kill me. Please don\u2019t kill me.<\/p>\n
Panicking, I run away and lock myself into my duplex.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Once he made his first million, he disassociated from the outside world and got deeper into the game. I suspect the diaper thing started after he had at least six million in the bank.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":22300,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[4027],"class_list":["post-21680","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-aimeeparkison","writer-aimee-parkison"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21680","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21680"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21680\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":22301,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21680\/revisions\/22301"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22300"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21680"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21680"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21680"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}