Everyday consisted of endless series of planned excitements--a boring routine, generally speaking, that even I myself continuously wonder how it all began.
To my knowledge, April 20, 3050 was supposed to be just like any other Wednesday.
As soon as the minute hand of The Clocktower™ would hit twelve, everyone in The City™ knew that Secretary Jenna Glaskowitz of the Department of Human Relations, infamously known as The President's other woman, would already be adjusting the microphone inside her office. The sound of her lips puckering would reverberate all over the system and the ear-splitting sound from moving the mic too much was all we needed to be struck awake. It wasn't really that bad, honestly, because who in their sane minds would want to miss out on the chance to earn 500 points just for getting up from bed? I could already buy a box of pizza and maybe a can or two of The Factory™ Four Seasons Soda Juice with just waking up.
I'd be disoriented, but nevertheless, up and awake.
"Good morning, Sara Blanchard. 18 years old. What task will you be doing now?"
Mom always said this was how it would always go as soon as I turned eighteen. The automated voice would wake me up, and I should get up for my first ever set of points.
"I'd like to get up and start my day now please."
It responded, "Please be guided that this is equivalent to 500 points."
Getting up wasn't hard, so I don't understand why it had to be considered a task. Only The President knows.
"Sara Blanchard. 18 years old. Task completed. You currently have a balance of 500 points."
As if the automated voice wasn't enough, the speakers would blast the first stanza from the Greatest Hit of All Time™ (refer to The City™ Holy Book of Records, Chapter 1, page 3) from Britpop band, The Aquagirls:
"Gotta make our bones crunch
And our adrenalines rush
We all gotta work
But only right after we twerk
It's another sunny day
In The Cityyy~"
It was government-mandated for people in the ages of 35 and above to go outside at 5 o'clock in the morning and head to The City™ gymnasium to, yes, dance to the music (refer to 3037 Constitution of The City™, Article XXI, Section LXIV)
Once Lisa Kajerc plays the first few notes on her pretentious electronic keyboard to start the chorus, people would break out of their immaculate and parallel rows and have all their bones cracking as they do variations of tworking, Greatest Dance Craze of the Decade™ (refer to "The City™ Holy Book of Records" Chapter 1, page 3)
One would be as if he was harvesting while pushing his ass upwards, but most of them just usually go with sweeping the ground while pushing their asses upwards.
"But the times are new,
You can do two things too
Work and twerk is a no-brainer
When you have us for trainers..."
It was the horrors of all horrors, I realized as I swallowed the pill on the table, which was a limited edition Tableaux designed by The Carpenters™, a group of carpenters from The Province™.
"Work, twerk, oh, oh!
Twerk, work, yeah, yeah!
And we call it twork, twork, twork, twork, twork, twork, twork..."
The gym would then be filled with agonizing oohs and ahhs (mind you, these were old people exercising), but Secretary Jenna would maximize the volume of the sound system so that their moans wouldn't overpower the song.
After playing the whole album, Secretary Glaskowitz would then clear her throat and announce, "Agenda complete. Please proceed to the counter for your corresponding points." Although it sounded more of a shriek, to be perfectly honest.
