24-7

“Who are you?” shouted the man as he raced from his car toward the front door of his house. “What are you doing with my stuff?!”

Men in navy blue windbreakers and earpieces with coiled cables moved briskly about, carrying out all of the man’s earthly belongings and loading them up in the back of an unmarked white truck. He winced as one of the meatheads scraped the edge of his flat screen against the corner of his garage.

A man with a buzz cut so flat you could set a table on it walked up to him.

“Are you 3WolfMoon79?”

“You mean on Twitter?”

“You’re going to have to come with us.”

“Why? Where are you taking me?”

“We’re upgrading you.”

“Upgrading me? But why? I like it here.”

“Sir, we’ve been monitoring your social media usage and, well, quite frankly, we’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, far from it. Like I said, we’re upgrading you.”

“But I don’t want—”

“Mr. Three Wolf, come with us, and we’ll explain everything.”

“But that’s not my—”

The agent grabbed his elbow and guided him into the back seat of a black Town Car.

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing with my stuff.” 3WolfMoon79 stared helplessly at the man with the rigid gray hair.

“You’re not going to need any of those things where you’re going. Everything will be provided. In fact, you will be hooked into the Console 24-7. You’ll be able to communicate with anyone at any time. Want to say hi to that cute anime girl in Ohio you’ve been chatting with? Just think it. Voila.”

“How do you know about her?”

The man chuckled quietly and looked out the window.