Free Day 9 by Robert T. Jeschonek Page B

Then, they poured back through the door out of the lobby, sweeping Hannahlee, Dunne, and Quincy along with them.
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    "What the hell's a 'slashfic filker?'" said the man in the black suit and red tie as he led Dunne and the others through the office suite.
    " You know," said Quincy. "I sing about crazy sex pairings, like Bella Willow and Archie Bunker. And I specialize in Weeping Willows slashficfilk."
    "Riiight." Black suit man nodded and winked. "Well, good luck with that." Then, he turned his attention back to Hannahlee.
    Quincy slumped. "But culture-wise, it's the next big viral breakout ."
    Dunne patted his shoulder. "We know, Quincy. It's all good."
    "Can't freason with a philistine, I guess." Quincy shrugged and sighed. "I wish I'd brought my dulcimer. I'd really show him ."
    Quincy kept mumbling, but Dunne stopped listening. He was much more interested in what black suit man was saying.
    "My name's Todd Myriada, by the way." Black suit man gave Hannahlee a little bow as they walked. "President and CEO of Sensophile. I'm a very hands-on kind of guy." He flickered his fingers over his face and laughed.
    Dunne looked around at the suite as he followed Todd and Hannahlee. It was a vast, wide-open space, free of cubicles or any typical workplace furniture...even desks. The employees, still costumed like Willows, sat in bean bags on the floor or lay in hammocks hung from the ceiling, tapping away at laptops and handheld computers. All sorts of toys and snacks were scattered around—foam rubber footballs and giant bags of Doritos. People filled cups of soda from taps on the wall and watered the jungle of green plants growing over and around all the windows.
    Dunne thought it looked like a fun place to work...for a twentysomething. The kind of free-spirited, non-traditional videogame industry workplace he'd read about in magazines.
    Complete with a free-spirited, non-traditional boss.
    Without slowing his pace, Todd spun and pointed at Hannahlee and Dunne. "Who wants ice cream sundaes? Before we get started? Anyone?"
    Quincy waved his hand. "Right here, my good man!"
    Todd ignored him and turned back around to face forward. "Okay then," he said. "Let's skip straight to the cherry."
    Big frosted glass doors split apart at his approach. Dunne, Hannahlee, and Quincy followed him into a giant room like a movie theater, with rows of seats on tiers and a huge screen that took up a whole wall.
    "Make yourselves comfortable." Todd waved at the rows of seats as he jogged down the aisle toward the screen. Popping open a tinted glass cabinet set into the wall, he snatched out a laptop.
    Hannahlee sat in the front row, and Dunne sat beside her. Before Quincy could sit on the other side of her, though, Todd trotted over with the laptop and dived into the seat.
    Quincy stared at him for a moment, mouth open, about to say something...but Todd paid no attention to him. With a snort and a disgusted flick of the wrist, Quincy walked off to take a seat at the far end of the row.
    Todd popped open the laptop and hit a few keys. "Here we go." Suddenly, the big wall screen burst to life. "Welcome to Willowtopia."
    On the screen, computer graphics depicted a familiar scene. Seedy storefronts hunched along a city street at night, lit by flickering neon and dim streetlamps. Shadowy figures slouched along the sidewalk, trash blowing around their feet like tumbleweeds. Old cars with their windows smashed in sat on cement blocks, stripped and burned out. Screeching cats pitched their cries against distant squealing tires and the muffled shouts of angry drunks.
    Dunne recognized it instantly. "Cool," he said. "That's Scratchtown ."
    "You betcha." Todd hit more keys on the laptop, and the scene shifted, rotating to show the other side of the street. A bearded, burly man in a gray fur coat sat on a stoop there, glowering over the glittering head of his bejeweled cane. He was surrounded by a dozen scantily-clad women of all sizes and colors. "Which