by Charlie Nash

As I walked down the suburban sidewalk, I tripped over a basketball and fell face first into a muddy puddle.


Checking my left pocket and then my right, I realized my wallet was still intact.

My iPod Nano, however, was missing.

Continuing to stroll along the sidewalk, covered in mud and without my iPod Nano, I eventually reached my destination, home, and gave the secret password to the Smart Door.

Walking through the door, I entered my kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a cold tin of Synthetic Tuna, before opening it up and pouring it down my throat.

With dinner consumed, I went into the living room to check on my dog Terry, only to remember that Terry had passed away 3 and a half years prior in a Smart Door accident.


The night began to creep up on me, and I typed away furiously on my laptop while listening to some techno reggae tracks which had started to pick up popularity.

Churning out words for my essay on Free Market Capitalism for the Reagan Onania Institution, I started to get horny, and reached for my silicon masturbator.


My dog Terry had eaten it in an act of defiance shortly before his accident with the Smart Door three and a half years prior.

I had been meaning to replace it.

Scrolling through Amazon for a replacement, I became stressed out comparing silicon masturbators, and ended up throwing the laptop against the Smart Fridge in a fit of rage.


"Don't worry man, I'll clean that up for you," remarked the Smart Fridge.