Retort

“Nice jacket. Kill it yourself?”

I listen to the voices in my head.

“No,” I repeat. “It’s still alive. Thought it’d keep that tribble you’re wearing company.”

Paul’s smile twitches.

I always used to be his mocking-boy, but now I’ve signed up to Wildeify. Through recording devices placed into my brain, they know everything I see and hear.

So when I need a snappy comeback, their writers can drop one straight into my head.

Also, they make sure I only dream about products I’m likely to enjoy.

It’s a pretty good deal. Wiping off Paul’s smug smile is a bonus.