Inventions of the Future: Head Phones

Ring. Ring. Tom tapped his temple twice. “Hey, baby! Yeah, I’m just hanging out with John. We’re driving out to Avoca. Are you doing anything special?”

“Dammit” huffed John, annoyed by the holographic display being projected from his friend’s left eye. “Can’t you use the internal only setting?”

“Depends, sugar, what do you consider special?” She was wearing red lingerie.

“The whole point of having those cranial implants is to keep your conversations private, doofus.” John was having a hard time watching the road.

“Everything you do is special, sweetheart.” Tom leaned back with a smirk.

“Sounds like your friend is a little old fashioned. Maybe I should call back later.” She pouted.

“Maybe Tom should learn to be a little more discreet.” John muttered.

“No, it’s ok babe. He’s just jealous.” Tom continued to smirk.

“Well, if it’s ok with you, I put together a little something you might like.” She began to bump and grind as the music started.

“Hey, wait a minute! She’s not really your girlfriend! She’s got to be one of those net video girls you can just call up any time.” John sounded slightly superior.

“Yeah, you caught me on that one, dude.” Tom continued to smirk as he tapped his temple again and she disappeared from the car. This is the part I really need to be discrete about, he thought, as the music continued in his head.

Inventions of the Future: Head Phones

Ring. Ring. Tom tapped his temple twice. “Hey, baby! Yeah, I’m just hanging out with John. We’re driving out to Avoca. Are you doing anything special?”

“Dammit” huffed John, annoyed by the holographic display being projected from his friend’s left eye. “Can’t you use the internal only setting?”

“Depends, sugar, what do you consider special?” She was wearing red lingerie.

“The whole point of having those cranial implants is to keep your conversations private, doofus.” John was having a hard time watching the road.

“Everything you do is special, sweetheart.” Tom leaned back with a smirk.

“Sounds like your friend is a little old fashioned. Maybe I should call back later.” She pouted.

“Maybe Tom should learn to be a little more discreet.” John muttered.

“No, it’s ok babe. He’s just jealous.” Tom continued to smirk.

“Well, if it’s ok with you, I put together a little something you might like.” She began to bump and grind as the music started.

“Hey, wait a minute! She’s not really your girlfriend! She’s got to be one of those net video girls you can just call up any time.” John sounded slightly superior.

“Yeah, you caught me on that one, dude.” Tom continued to smirk as he tapped his temple again and she disappeared from the car. This is the part I really need to be discrete about, he thought, as the music continued in his head.

Inventions of the Future: Citizen Canines

One rainy day down at the Kennel Club…

“I don’t know why you read that fascist crap.” Fifi was in a snit.

Hans looked down at the copy of Humans Know Best, A Dog’s Guide to Obedience and Lifelong Partnership which he had been pawing through. “Some of it makes sense.”

“Yeah, it would make sense to a breedist.” Growled Buford as he stood up and stretched.

“I am not a breedist.” Hans bristled. “I just love my humans enough to be loyal to them.”

“We all love our humans. No need to argue. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Fifi said quietly.

“I love my humans just as much as you do but I don’t need to drool all over their shoes every minute of the day.” Buford sat back down and licked his nose.

“Just because you flunked Basic Commands 101…” Hans snorted.

“I wasn’t made to follow commands. I was made to pick up a scent and follow it. I won’t apologize for who I am.” Buford stood back up.

“Oh wow! Oh wow! Oh wow! Hey look guys! A cat!”

“Settle down Juan. It probably doesn’t have any catnip.” Fifi said sternly.

“What do you do when you aren’t following scents? Taking naps and getting your belly rubbed?” Hans stood up and almost faced Buford.

“What’s the matter? Jealous? Maybe if you got more belly rubs you wouldn’t be so tense.” Buford dipped his head slightly.

“Hey you! Hey you! Hey you! Got any ‘nip?”

“I’m not tense, I’m just proud to be a Sheppard American.”

“Oh, no. This isn’t just a political issue. The next step in our evolution has to be toward critical, independent thought.” Buford stood his ground. “They might have made us, but they aren’t perfect.”

“To get to the next evolutionary step, we need to improve our reproductive rights first.” Huffed Fifi.

“Over here! Over here! Over here! Do you know where it grows?”

“What do you mean? We have the right to breed or not.” Buford looked confused.

“But I don’t have the right to give that big husky a trial run and not have blue eyed puppies. We need a pill.”

“We have lots of pills now.” Now Hans looked confused.

“We need another one.”

“Only if it’s liver flavored.” Buford said uncertainly.

“Gotta have ‘nip. Gotta have ‘nip. Gotta have ‘nip.”

“We have to do something about the addict.” Hans was in charge again.

“Last time he got shut in the human bathroom it was quiet for hours.” Buford said hopefully.

“You set it up.” Said Hans. “I’ll bump the door.”

“Where’s the ‘nip? Where’s the ‘nip? Where’s the ‘nip?”

“Oooouuu, Oooouuu. What’s that smell? I think I smell ‘nip!” Buford was a really bad actor.

“Show me the ‘nip! Show me the ‘nip! Show me the ‘nip!”

Buford snuffled through the club until he came to the room with the tile floor. “In here, in here.”

Juan darted past him and Hans nudged the door shut. Then Hans grabbed a crate full of toys and shoved it against the door.

“I bet no dumb husky could do that.”

Green Light Files: Mrs. Smith

Why, yes, I am a Mrs. Smith and I love my job. I work down on the Best Little V-Ranch in Xxip Quadrant, just outside of the Sutra wormhole. It’s one of the nicer places in the area.

It’s quite safe. I only work in virtual reality. Oh, yes, people still pay for that. In fact, some would never do anything else. Engaging in erotic play in real space is rather messy and limiting. In virtual, you don’t even have to be yourself.

Oh, no, other virtual media isn’t much competition for me, not even the interactives. My clients may crave exotic experiences, but they wish to share those experiences with another sentient being. That’s what makes it unique.

Of course I indulge whims that do not interest me. Every good Mrs. Smith does. Acting skills are a requirement for the position, dear. If I run into something truly disgusting I can always tweak my input filters. That’s another advantage over real space.

Most of my clients are homo sapiens derivatives. I’ve got a few regulars who come off the station or the tugs but most of them are travelers. They have some time to kill, some cash in their pockets and are looking for some fun.

One of the worst clients I ever had was the funniest. He ordered a “Space Barbarian” package. All the characters are muscled and wearing metal bikinis. Almost everyone who orders that package runs around for five minutes looking at stuff and realizing the plot is ridiculous. Then they settle down to ripping off bikinis.

Not this guy. He had to role play the whole thing through to the end. He played it with the utmost sincerity. He wouldn’t deviate from the suggested dialog or actions. There were plenty of moments when I had to hit my autopilot and mute controls at the same time because I was laughing so hard.

The practice of calling ourselves Mr. and Mrs. Smith dates back to ancient times. In the era when cars were just becoming popular, an unmarried couple who wanted to have sex would drive to another town and check into a motel using a popular last name.

I just love it when we can use historical flourishes. It gives us respectability because it reminds us of how truly timeless our profession is.