Facebook (played by Kathy Bates)
Twitter (played by a world-weary Bukowski, a thin line of gruel issuing forth)
Tumblr (played by Bukowski’s bartender)
Foursquare (in hoodie and glasses)
Last.fm (also in hoodie and glasses)
Flickr (laboring under the weight of his new SLR)
My Space (an old acid head, trapped in a loop of primary-colored gifs, slouched in his weathered Barcalounger)
Words with Friends (a sufferer of Tourette’s)
Farmville (an ignored puppy)
Scene: The cluttered, infinite Vegas of Cyberspace. Match.com and eHarmony wedding chapels pepper the slums of porn sites. Megalith casinos Microsoft and Mac attempt to dominate a single downtown corner, glaring at each other. Inside one of these structures, we find Facebook reading her email…
Facebook: Groupon’s offering $10 for $50 worth of food at that Mexican place that made us sick last time!!! Who’s in?!
Twitter: Shut the fuck up. The last time I had a hangover this bad, I woke up with my dick in an egg burrito. [retires to the bathroom]
Foursquare: Do they have wireless?
My Space: Can’t we go to the Crocodile? I like that place. I had a gig there once…
Foursquare: I was there!
Last.fm: I was backstage.
Flickr: Man, I got the best shots that night…
Facebook: Speaking of photos… have I shown you the latest ones of my children? They’re very precious to me, you know. [breaking down] How can you people stand how beautiful they are?!
Words with Friends: XI!
Twitter: [yelling through the bathroom door] If I have to hear about your goddamn children one more time…!
Facebook sobs quietly to herself. The triplets Del.icio.us, Digg and StumbleUpon are on the L-shaped sofa, fighting over the remote.
Twitter: Should I go to the doctor?! My poo tastes funny!
Tumblr: [loudly, so Twitter can hear him] He was out of his mind on a whiskey and Four Loko bender last night. [confidentially, to the others] He’s having marital troubles… Poor man. He’s not able to express himself. Failwhale issues and character limits, you see. And of course his unfinished novel and that design job that doesn’t pay… Y’know, last week, as I was shovelling the walk…
Words with Friends: EF!
And so we tiptoe from the room, leaving them to their private hells, and closing the laptop for the night…
The conclusion of the stories comes when the beloved, obsessed-over, jerk character shrugs and says, “Okay. You can love me.” The end? Bullshit.
Okay, I’ll be sleeping.
I haz them.