Tuesday 200 — one hundred fourteen
when we last left the Cyber Bro ...
What in Cher’s name is a Tuesday 200?
Chad, still holding his dick, was suddenly surrounded by throngs of people in a huge auditorium, all jabbering into a sea of screens reflecting vacant eyes and naked ears.
A woman chanting in Cantonese. A toddler bawling at a Teletubbies video. Tuxedoed albino shouting in … German?
English behind him.
He zipped his fly. “Hello?”
A beast in an Arsenal jersey snarled “fuck off” and carried on, even louder.
A hoodied teen, sitting cross-legged, said “contraseñas alla”, pointing to to a circular desk that was surrounded by people, 5–6 deep, waving tickets.
A sign above:
Cell Tower of Babylon
take number
Chad checked his iPhone.
24% battery. Zero bars.
Settings — wifi — choose network
Je bent genaaid, kletskop
Estàs fotut, bocamoll
انته ورطت حالك، يا ثرثار
All password protected.
“Fuck.”
He slumped onto a plastic bench.
“First time?” The kid’s accent was heavy.
“Huh?”
“You’ll get used to it.” He yammered “momentito” into his Android. “How’d you get flicked?”
“Fleeked?”
“Sent here.”
Chad shrugged. “I was pissing and …”
“Before that?”
“FaceTiming.”
The kid nodded. “Me on a bus, jamming with Bad Bunny. Some abuelita yelled “Cállate” and buuff!. Aquí estoy.”
“I need outta here.”
“First, you need a password.”
Love the concept. I’d read more!