I Love My Bloakum In Oakum

Your kettle has encountered
a problem and needs to turn off.
Any unboiled water will turn to
sewage. Morphy Richards apologises
for the inconvenience.

Rutabaga blinked, and the message on his kitchen wall changed to:

Do you wish to send an error
report? No personal details will
be disclosed and the size of your
penis will not be circulated as an
office joke. Please read our privacy
policy. Our staff haven’t and, having
taken the trouble to write it, we feel
that somebody should.

Rutabaga lifted the kettle lid cautiously, then let it drop as the stench almost made him faint. Holding the kettle at arm’s length he took it outside the back door and emptied the contents down the drain.

Are you sure you wish to
dispose of this sewage? Bacteria
that depend on it will cease to grow.
You might find yourself unable to
contract some diseases.

Rutabaga ran back indoors, leaving the kettle where it was until he had time to hose it down. He boiled some water in a saucepan and made himself a cup of coffee. As he sat at the kitchen table drinking it he heard the sound of the day’s post arriving. He went to the front door to see what the world had seen fit to send him. There were a few letters but far more pieces of something thin, pink and diseased-looking. He picked up the letters, shaking off the slices of Spam that were adhering to them. One was a letter from his sister, he recognised the handwriting although the Spam had stained the envelope and made the ink run. There were also a couple of bills and a postcard.

Back in the kitchen he opened the letter. It said ‘lol’. He tried to remember what his sister might be lolling about but he hadn’t kept a copy of his last letter to her so he couldn’t remember. He put her letter to one side and looked at the postcard. The picture was of an attractive-looking girl. He turned it over. On the other side was a printed invitation to be her friend in Facebook, Tennessee. As he held the card it turned soft and pink between his fingers and he dropped it in disgust. That left him with the bills. Altogether a disappointing day’s post.

Rutabaga went into the lounge, posted a CD into the player and sat back to listen to some music. Instead of the music he was expecting, the player blared out the sound of somebody exhorting him to buy Pickle Stickle. He jumped up to turn the volume down. On the wall it said:

Googlespam: you can skip this ad in 0.04

He ejected the CD and put in another. This time the voice wanted him to buy Oakum Bloakum. He turned the volume right down and waited. After a few minutes he cautiously turned it up again. An insinuating female voice was telling him how she loved her Bloakum in Oakum. He had no idea what she was talking about. The message on the wall said:

Googlespam: bet you didn’t know we own
YouTune: you can skip this ad in 0.04

He turned the volume down again. The message on the wall said:

Googlespam: you’re going to listen to our
spam whether you like it or not: you can skip this
ad in 0.04

Rutabaga ejected the CD. The message on the wall said:

Googlespam: don’t bother trying to change
the CD. We’ve been listening to your music and
TV choices and collecting data about your shopping.
We know exactly you like. Just listen to the ad, it
will save us all a lot of time and trouble. We don’t
care whether or not you buy the junk, we just want
to charge the advertiser for making sure you suffer
his spam. Our mission statement is Do No Harm.
This isn’t going to hurt you, is it?

With his hands over his ears, Rutabaga rushed from the room. He took out his phone and dialled.

“This is Virtual Lives,” said a voice. “Please press one for billing, two for billing queries, or three for exceptional charges. To cancel your contract, press four. For any other query, please hold until you get fed up or run out of money. All calls are charged at five pounds a minute in addition to your standard network rate. Please don’t hang up, your money is important to us.”

Rutabaga hesitated. What would his sister say if he pressed four? Would she miss him? Probably not. He pressed the button and the world ceased to exist.

At Virtual Lives, Pixie Pink watched as the little cartoon man disappeared from the screen. “I love my Bloakum in Oakum,” she hummed. It was such a catchy tune.