I go into a shop. It’s brightly lit with smiley, happy staff working behind the tills. I see rows upon rows of what look like cereal boxes, but they’re not full of breakfasty goodness. They’re full of boxed lives, ready to be picked out and lived.
On the left hand side of the shop I can see a lot of red boxes. Some have ‘Human Male Life’ written on them, others have ‘Human Female Life.’ You can, apparently, trade in one for the other if you’re so inclined, which is nice.
Labour brand lives seem fairly comprehensive. Everything you need in that one box, along with a full set of rules and, it seems, a rather onerous set of terms and conditions, but let’s not quibble.
As far as off the shelf lives go, it’s got the lot. Sure, the sticker price is pretty expensive – nearly half of the money you earn throughout your life, but then it does do all your thinking for you, too.
On the other side, there’s a bunch of blue boxes. They’re Conservative Brand lives, and they’re a little cheaper than the Labour lives, although not by much. The terms and conditions are just as exacting – although different – to the Labour brand lives, but it’s still fairly comprehensive. There’s also a little more choice. There’s a ‘Conservative Worker!’ and ‘Conservative Businesswoman!’ and ‘Conservative Housewife!’ and a few others like that.
This shop sucks really, but everyone’s in here – business is good. Lots of people picking out a box from one side or the other.
I leave, crossing the road, and see a rather dingy looking old shop with dusty windows and a canny old goat behind the counter. I go inside, and I realise it’s selling the same thing as the big Lives R Us shop, but here they do things differently. Every single box is different. They’re like plug-ins. You can mix and match and customise your life exactly as you want, and there’s even a special box you can buy that lets you create your own plug-in modules. I can’t believe my luck – it’s like a dream come true.
“How’s business?” I ask the old man and he sighs, telling me I’m the first customer he’s had in weeks.
I look out the window and across at the slick Lives R Us chain store, with my bundle of boxes in my hands and I wonder, momentarily, what’s wrong with me.
