The Virus People
by Sheri Grutz
Enter young man wearing thick,
google-like black glasses, making constant facial jerking motions.
He walks up to his friend sitting on
the couch, turning his way, wearing the same style glasses.
NO. 1
You don't have the
right interface.
NO. 2
What's wrong with
my interface.
NO. 1
I can tell you're
getting pop ups.
NO. 2
I think I've got
too much memory stored, it's clogging up my whole system.
NO. 1
Metamucil?
Lights flash on and off.
NO. 2
I can't shut myself
down!
NO. 1
Too much uploading
maybe. How many pictures you got stored?
NO. 2
Over a thousand.
Plus all the music.
Enter next young man.
NO. 3
I'm sick. I've got
a virus.
NO. 1
I think we need to
do some serious meditation, you know, wipe the slate clean.
NO. 3
I've been shutting
down and restarting all day. Nothing helps.
NO. 1
This is
serious...we're going to have a crash!
NO. 3
It's happened
before, I just do a CT scan and zap the bugs. I'm going to call my
doctor. (he exits)
NO. 2
The head pain, the
stomach pain, the central nervous system....awww.
NO. 1
My problem is, I do
too many searches.
NO. 2
For what?
NO. 1
The parasites that
did this to me.
NO. 2
You're pretty
organic though, man, I think we should get the chips removed, you
know, go back to using laptops again.
NO. 1
Look at what I
found. Obscure magazine in my lens, wanting hackers.
NO. 2
Do you want to
apply?
NO. 1
Scared to upload my
resume any more.
NO. 2
Send it to me.
Thinks real hard,
then presses button on side of his glasses.
NO. 1
Done.
I'm going to get
started. We need some extra cash.
NO. 2
I'm going to lay
down and go into dream screen saver.
NO. 1
Alright.
(long pause. Man sits focused
looking into his glasses, waiting. Enter young man)
NO. 3
I've got
appointment for tomorrow morning.
NO. 1
Great. Look at
this man, I just got in.
Young man stares into his glasses.
NO. 3
If I didn't know
better, through encrytion I can tell that's the NSA.
NO. 1
That's right, it
is. And I'm in.
NO. 3
The police are
going to be here any minute.
NO. 1
nah, it's secure.
NO. 3
No way, man, it's
broadcast!
NO. 1
It's no good, the
files have been erased. I can't keep it there.
Enter a police officer with back up
officer, slamming open the door, and pointing his index finger in a
gun style at the young man.
NO. 1
What the fuck?
OFFICER
Hands up. We know
what you're up to.
NO. 1
My hands aren't
doing a thing.
OFFICER
This is the mind
police, and we traced your thoughts back to this residence, and your
people.
Where you're going
is to a psych ward. Those meds will put a stop to you.
NO. 3
Will it get our
viruses?
OFFICER
You aren't free to
use your brain like this, no one is.
NO. 1
I know you have
very little authority.
OFFICER
I've been trained
to deal with people like you. Now come on, all you, you're going
away now.
The two men take off their glasses
and lay them on the coffee table.
NO. 1
Aaron, come on!
We're going to delete and remove.
Young man walks out slowly.
NO. 2
Well, well, I hope
they feed us well.
OFFICER
After all your news
feeds, I don't think it will matter.
NO. 3
Will they let us
read books?
OFFICER
You can bring
something.
NO. 3
I don't need to
bring something.
OFFICER
You will when
they're done with you.
NO. 1
Even if you split
us up, we have WiFi.
OFFICER
They might have a
computer you can use there, but that's all you're allowed to use.
NO. 1
It will be a nice
break, I think. Let's go guys.
The police escort the 3 young men
out the door, slowly.
Single spotlight on glasses on the
coffee table, going dim. The end.
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