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Where I Go To When I Am Called

Date: 16-Sep-2008/12:41+3:00

Tags: , , , ,

Characters: bill gates, woman, me, man

I was watching some sort of story unfold where Bill Gates was in an argument with a female employee over something on her computer. After she had left he enlisted the services of a woman from another department to hack into the files. The interface of the software the woman was using was very advanced.
bill gates: "Where did this software come from?"
woman: "We got it from the vendor who sold us the system for HR."
bill gates: "I'd like to talk to them."
He turned to me, and said:
bill gates: "In case you're curious, we've only just shipped Word 2.0"
me: "Ah. Definitely something fishy going on here then."
I became lucid and for some reason thought it was a communication with the real Bill Gates.
me: "Wait, are you going to remember this conversation? Do you remember your dreams?"
bill gates: "Oh there is a whole collection of people who remember what you've said to them. In fact, there's a documentary being made by HBO about you."
The scene faded and I was walking down a hallway with someone else.
me: "Someone said a documentary was being made about me on HBO. What is it?"
man: "I've heard about it, I haven't seen it. It's titled 'Where I Go To When I Am Called'."
Note Title approximated, it was something like that.
I became nervous as I was led into a closed off room with a lot of people and medical tools.
me: "Whoa, whoa, what are you planning on doing here?"
man: "It is time for the swallowing of the red poison."
me: "Is that necessary? What have I done to warrant being poisoned?"
man: "No, no. YOU are the poison!"
me: "I don't understand."
man: "Whenever we touch you, it is very painful. We understand it is painful to you as well."
Someone from across the room reached at me and gave me a brief poke, his arm stretching like PlasticMan. It felt like an injection. He retracted his arm immediately.
me: "Wait, so that feeling... like an injection that I'm always getting, it's just a by-product of touching? And you feel it too?"
man: "Yes."
me: "Then... well... can't we use science here? Like, you could take some skin samples or blood, whatever. Figure out why it happens, and then stop it. Then we can talk normally."
man: "This new king is showing much wisdom."
me: "Er... well I'm not trying to hurt you. Study what you can while I'm here, I can take it."
A stack of Petri dishes were brought in. I walked over to the table, which had become something like a fume hood.
Holding my arm out, I noticed that it looked like nothing but a circuit board. They were trying to detach it completely, but using physical force.
me: "Hey. Well, if you want that thing, could you use scissors or something? Just cut it off...this twisting hurts."
They did, and I noticed that my arm suddenly went from feeling like it was the circuit board to functioning normally again.
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copy write %C:/0304-1020 {Met^(00C6)ducation}

The accounts written here are as true as I can manage. While the words are my own, they are not independent creative works of fiction —in any intentional way. Thus I do not consider the material to be protected by anything, other than that you'd have to be crazy to want to try and use it for genuine purposes (much less disingenuous ones!) But who's to say?