M. T. Anderson by Feed

nothing had happened. We were watching feedcasts as if our brains had never been invaded by the asshole. Loga was laughing with her front teeth showing, as if she’d never been different from the rest of us, the one left with the feed when the rest of us didn’t have it. Some guy was pouring the beer. Link and Marty were doing like acrobatics in the entryway, fighting invisible demons.
    And everything was completely normal.
    The truffle was completely undervalued.

. . . which the President denied in an address early on Tuesday. “It is not the will of the American people, the people of this great nation, to believe the allegations that were made by these corporate ‘watch’ organizations, which are not the majority of the American people, I repeat not, and aren’t its will. It is our duty as Americans, and as a nation dedicated to freedom and free commerce, to stand behind our fellow Americans and not cast . . . things at them. Stones, for example. The first stone. By this I mean that we shouldn’t think that there are any truth to the rumors that the lesions are the result of any activity of American industry. Of course they are not the result of anything American industry has done. The people of the United States know, as I know, that that is just plain hooey. We need to remember . . . Okay, we need to remember that America is the nation of freedom, and that freedom, my friends, freedom does not lesions make.” The President is expected to veto the congressional . . .

The party went on. I couldn’t concentrate anymore. We watched
Snowblind.
The guy in it, he fell off a platform at a mob-owned ski lift and landed in powder next to a sexy assassin with a heart of gold. I was feeling strange sitting next to Violet, and she wasn’t laughing, which was weirding me out. She was just sitting there. The feedcast went on and on, and they all went up the mountain on skis and shot at each other and finally they all learned an important lesson about love. Then it was over.
    I went upstairs to take a whizz, and Marty and Link were dragging me into a bedroom.
    “Unit,” Link said. “Unit, you are about to walk through the mirror.”
    “It is time,” Marty said, “for Bulb-tweaker.”
    “Oh, unit,” I was like, “is this malfunction?”
    “Hey hey hey hey hey, this is a great site. It’s fuckin’ smooth as glass.”
    “‘Bulb-tweaker’?”
    “It’s just a mild scrambler,” said Link.
    “I can completely see straight,” said Marty. He pointed. “That’s right in front of me.”
    There were other guys in there, too, and one girl. They were whispering. Someone had gone completely fugue on the bed.
    “Do a burst. Then crank it down to a slow burn.”
    “Okay,” said Marty. “I’m going to go again.”
    “Unit,” said Link, punching me on the arm. “Fly the friendly skies.”
    I was like, “Not tonight.”
    “Come on, unit.”
    “I don’t think Violet’s into the mal.”
    “Oh, come on, unit, she’ll never know.”
    “What is this, shitheads?” I said. “Cut the
ABC Afterschool Special.
”
    “She’ll never know!” said Link.
    I said, “What did we just go through? Unit?” I whapped myself on the back of the head. “Remember? Like, what did we just . . . ? Huh?”
    “Huh?”
    “Never mind.”
    “What?”
    “I said never mind.”
    “Okay,” said Link. “Your loss. Here I go. You with, Marty?”
    “I’m with.”
    They spread out their arms and closed their eyes, and you could see when it hit them. They got the shudder first, and then their heads rocked, and they were big stumbling, and they went backward, and there were all these people back there on the bed and a chair and the floor, blinded, doing the quiver. Link’s tongue came out. It was purple from candy.
    I went out and to the bathroom. When I was done, I went back downstairs. Quendy and Violet were talking. Quendy was like, “Where is everyone?” but I didn’t tell her they were up getting scrambled in the master