Touching Wires Causes Instant Death – “The Golden Parachute” Continues!

 

 

Here are Week 77 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!


Regi says “What began with tweets?” Farley gestures “All of this. Arkaby turned my brother’s demise into a sordid dimestore detective tale.”


“You hated my father!” “We had our differences, but I never wished him dead or serialized.” I say “You’re trying to put the blame on me?”

“Who else is responsible for the paradigm shifts, the shortages, the outages, global climate change.” “You blame me for the weather?”


“Don’t play dumb. You know climate change isn’t the weather.” “I’m not playing. Are you serious?” “You think climate change is the weather?”


Farley smirks and turns away. I walk up and grab his collar. “From now on I ask the questions!” “Get your damn dirty paws off of me!” “Huh?”


I slap him across the face, hurting my hand in the process. “Ow! What’s the big idea?” “Humans releasing CO2 causes climate change.” “What?”


“Please complete your question.” If my hand wasn’t still throbbing I’d hit him again. “What releases of CO2?” “CO2 from coal, oil and gas.”


I grab the Farley by the shoulders and attempt to shake him. I can’t budge him. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” “I’m talking about weather.”


“Everyone talks about weather but no one does anything about it.” “Then our days are numbered.” It’s time I show what climate denial can do.


There is no blunt object within reach so I take out the ERUPT Manual to apply some book learning. Farley says. “Where did you get that?”


“Let me explain it to you.” I give him a head shot with the book, tearing the cover again. “Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.”


Haven’t I heard that before? The ERUPT cover falls off. Farley mocks me with silence. I raise the book for one more attempt at incompetence.


“ARKABY! ” Regi jumps between us. “Why are you fighting with my uncle?” Farley and I say “He started it.” “I don’t care WHO started it.”


“He called me a climate denier.” She turns to Farley “What do you mean?” Farley rubs his head. “He overreacted. I never called him that.”


“I just called him a two-bit dimestore detective with unresolved masculinity issues and a serious Twitter addiction.” “How is that better?”


“It’s better because it’s true.” “Granted, but you admit he’s not a climate change denier?” “I don’t know.” I say “I’m standing right here.”


Regi says “Farley, what do you want?” “The only way to fight the Singularity is to cut off its roots. We need to bring down the Internet.”

“I thought the distributed nature of the Internet prevents that sort of one shop stopping?” “Yes. We need to do three things.” “Only three?”


“First, we take away everyone’s smartphones, starting with this tweeting fool.” “You’ll have to pry this phone out of my cold dead hands!”


“Ah, a volunteer!” Farley turns, his rigid arm coming up with a gun at the end like a hollow blue finger. “You’d shoot me?” “With pleasure.”


I don’t know what he means. “I won’t give up my phone. I’m under contract.” “What if I reimburse you the cancellation penalty?” “No.” “OK.”

 

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

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