The F Party
|F Police by DrAjao|
...but it still was a party. The party became very popular. More people flocked in. They came in with family and friends and left with strangers. Some didn’t even remember why they were there anymore. Some didn’t even remember who they were anymore… ...but it still was a party. More concession stands showed up. Generally, more people showed up to sell all sorts to the party goers. The organizers of the party charged them a token to set up their stalls, which were, by and large, ignored by the party goers…. ...I mean, seriously, we’re partying here.
|Containment Cells by DrAjao|
Yep...anyone who wanted to be the life of the party from then on had to pay for a permit. Management of course felt that the term “Containment Cells” was too negative so they tried to put a positive spin on things. They claimed that they were merely temporarily detaining those whose selling tactics were getting out of control so they don’t distract too much from the party. So they called the cells “Controlment Cells”. Before long, people couldn’t easily party with their friends any more. As if it wasn’t hard enough keeping up with them in the old days. Many new vendors who had paid for permits to sell things were flooding the party and replacing the real talent as the life of the party. So things got rather mundane and chaotic at the same time...if you can wrap such an oxymoronic concept around your head. Naturally, the number of people who got dissatisfied with the party reached a quorum of sorts. Some felt inundated, others felt insecure in the chaos, others suddenly gained insight into the fact that they were addicted to the more unproductive things in life. Others realized they were addicted to productive things...but these productive things were too many to keep track of. And unbelievably, others were bored! So they packed their little belongings and moved to the other big party on the other side of town (Google +). Now this place had the stalls, soundstages, pedestals, pulpits, multi-tiered halls with ginormous viewing screens and badass sound. The place was immaculate, wall to wall of spotless white...and the toilets actually flushed. Every party had a designated room and there was nary a roadside vendor or street hustler for miles. But it was too well executed to feel like a party. You could get work done though...there were numerous offices, studios, gyms, and all sorts of neatly compartmentalized places where you could do exactly what you came to do without being distracted and with less fear of compromising security. Nah...that wasn't a party. So they left the Google ‘party’ (The G party), swallowed their pride, and came back to the Facebook party (The F Party). They were welcomed without judgement by their friends. To be honest, most of their friends didn’t even notice that they’d been gone. Some who had never left the F Party had instead taken a vow of abstinence but their withdrawal symptoms were too severe. They were also welcomed back without to much mocking. The party was much too busy for anyone to notice anything. Management noticed people coming back though. That gave them the confidence that they were doing the right thing and shouldn’t be worried about competition. At least the F Party is still a party right?
|Bottled Fun by DrAjao|