Luckily, what I’d felt before was in fact the MDMA, so I now felt much happier about everything on the whole.
Of course, by that point, Nicky was completely pissed. She grabbed me by the arm to pull me around the corner and into the hallway where we could be alone. Well, sort of alone. My dimstim stats instantly shot up as the social cloud sensed my mood and the fight coming on.
“You know Bob,” hissed Nicky, “we just don’t communicate. I thought you said you wanted to come here and now you’re embarrassing me. Can I ask you a question? Are you stoned again? Can you shut off your fucking dimstim for a minute please?”
“That’s two questions,” I shrugged, “and no to both of them. Sweetie, my dimstim is my work, my bread and butter, and good or bad I can’t just shut it off.”
I tried to smile winningly at her.
She stared at me in silence.
“Okay, yes, I am a little stoned,” I admitted.
She rolled her eyes. “And how can you call that stupid dimstim work? And this thing with your brother…”
I shrugged again, but then dialed up a Dragon skin with a phantom when she wasn’t looking.
“Hey, my dimstim is how we met. Don’t knock it. And don’t bring my brother into this!”
Narrowing my eyes, I added, “At least I work.”
She’d annoyed me now, so I was purposely pushing Nicky’s ‘piss me off’ button. This was going to be good. She didn’t like being reminded she was daddy’s little girl.
“Bob, all you do is sit around all day playing games or simulating vacation time for a bunch of meta–perves,” she snarled as her voice gathered momentum and the Dragon skin began to take hold. Her eyes flashed at me while her face and upper body began to morph into a cartoonish and slightly frightening form in my display space.
“Well, I mean, I make my own money,” I pointed out, shaking my head.
At that moment, I couldn’t help letting out an enormous yawn right in her face, which really set her off.
“Let me FINISH!” she barked at me, barely managing to contain herself.
The Dragon skin was working itself up nicely now. Her eyes bulged out and her neck elongated and sprouted a row of ridges, while her skin took on a distinctly scaly texture.
“Bob, the only reason your stupid dimstim makes any money at all is because I let you have sex with me on it, I swear to God I have no idea what I was thinking…”
I began to shrink a little from the Dragon but couldn’t help goading her.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, all my success is only due to the fabulous Nicky.”
Holy shit. The Dragon skin was amazingly frightening when you were stoned. I shook my head and couldn’t help laughing.
“STOP cutting me off!” she screamed.
She always had quite the temper. Her eyes had now bulged outwards into huge melon sized orbs with slatted cat pupils, and her head was bobbing back and forth on a neck that issued forth and grew from her blouse while a great gray, pimpled snout sprouted from where her nose had been.
Fangs menaced. Smoke began to curl from nostrils. Fireballs issued from her mouth. I cowered, giggling.
“Do you have that goddamn Dragon skin on? Jesus Bob!”
With that she turned tail, literally, and angrily stomped past me to storm out of the party. She left little burning patches behind her in the carpet.
“Nice Bob.”
It was Sid. He’d been ghosting the dimstim version of events, and now stood leaning on the wall of the hallway. I guess he’d already been killed in the battle I’d been watching. He laughed and shook his head.
“I’m not sure that’s the way to hold down a relationship.”
“Ah, she wasn’t for me. Anyway, she’s the one that chased me down.”
“Women, they always think they can change you, huh?”
“I guess.”
A pause while we looked at each other.
“Ready for some skin shopping?” I asked. I needed to get out of there.
“We’re going skin shopping?”
“Yes, my friend, I have decided my repertoire of skins now needs refreshing.”
As great as it was, the Dragon was getting old, plus it would be sad to use the Dragon on any girl after Nicky. I needed a new mythical creature with which to annoy the next woman in my life. I had a feeling Nicky wasn’t coming back into the fold anytime soon.
Sid just shrugged. “Sure. Why not.”
I sent an apology note about my little spat with Nicky to Rick and Cindy as we flitted out, and heard Sid asking, “What skins did you have in mind?” as we transitioned.
We appeared in what, for all intents and purposes, looked like a shoe store in 1920’s London, somewhere off Saville Row. Little boxes, whose covers danced with images and logos, lined the walls and aisles, and a smarmy synthetic salesman glided up to us.
“What can I do for you boys?” he asked, smiling.
“I don’t know, not sure,” I responded, not sure, plus high. “What have you got that’s new?”
He looked us up and down.
“You looking to skin up or skin out?”
“Either way, or both, just show us anything new,” replied Sid. Seeing my eyes swimming, he added, “And hurry up please.”
“Hmmm,” noted the salesthing as he put one hand to his chin. With the other he began swiping the wall, and the little boxes swept left and right and up and down at a blurring pace.
“We’ve got some new designer skins that do a great job of making everyone look good naked,” he began.
Both Sid and I rolled out eyes.
“Yeah you’re right, boring. How about this—more subtle—we’ve got some nice intelligence skins that make you look and act smarter.”
“Thanks buddy,” I replied, frowning, “what are you getting at?”
“Nothing, I’m just…okay then, look, we have some great new skins of Asia. The Snow Leopard, for instance…that’s all the rage now.”
“Naw, no animal stuff.”
“How about something more clever then? We have some that read your cognitive profile and make subtle changes to your wife or girlfriend to make them…”
Sid cut him off, “No wife or girlfriend stuff please.”
Sid looked at me and shook his head.
Smarmy the salesman tapped his finger to his mouth as he simulated thinking. “Okay boys, I have something really special, and it’s our new top seller.”
My interest piqued. “Go on, my smarmy friend.”
“We call it HappyTime—it’s a reality skin that makes subtle adjustments when you talk to or interact with people you know. It is guaranteed to help you lead a happier and stress free life.”
“Sounds good,” said Sid, “so what does it do?”
“Well, it makes slight changes in your perception so that you get the impression that you’re better off than your friends and family, diminishing the effects the further they are from you personally.”
Sid smiled. “So how does that work?”
“Well it doesn’t actually change anything, it just gives you the sense that your friend isn’t as happy with his new relationship as he really could be, or modifies how much you hear him telling you he makes at his new job,” it explained. “Little things so that you still get the gist, but modified so you feel like you’re doing better than they
