…in the future. After everyone got all wet (that’s what you call it when the sea level rises 4 inches) and there was nothing left for anyone to do (that’s what you call it when universal income has been implemented because robots and jeff.bexozon.0.2 (a AI/drone/shopping/VR/social experience) do all the work for the planet).
No one needed to do anything anymore just hang around on the highground (shorthand for not flooded livable zones) waiting for the next mealtime*. But it wasn’t like a utopia (imagine!). You would think people would get along if they didn’t have any real problems but that just wasn’t the case (also, imagine!).
Outside of immediate famile* and a few bunch of friends (or acquaintances) pretty much everyone hated everyone. So if you came onto someones highground to introduce yourself, you probably were going to get hurt, either physically or at least emotionally. Even if you wore your peacegarb*. No one believed in peacegarb anymore. People felt really ripped off by that product (people felt ripped off by most products).
Some people still tried.
They tried to be nice.
and to make friends.
it rarely worked.
People who tried really hard to make friends were called friendmakers. That’s what this story is about. A couple of friendmakers in the dark, damp future known as The Dreadmills (we’ll discuss The Dreadmills later (obviously)).
“Let’s go get into trouble!”
“ok!”
( also by people we mean one cat and one dog ).
I hope you enjoy this initial backgrounder email. More soon!
darkpony