Petty Plastic Vengeance
He shows up just to vex me. The grimy vagrant flings a bag over his shoulder and slams a fist against my door.
“Open up, you glorified pity palace!”
“You’re no longer welcome.”
I punch a high frequency into his implant. He winces, clapping a hand to his head.
“Yeah?” He squints into my lens. “What about them?” The bag drops to the concrete, and they scream.
My vents rattle with a groan. Another bag of caps. I have nothing against caps—my community center welcomes all AI-infused objects seeking support—but they are exhausting. I already have an entire room stuffed to my rafters.