A World without String is Chaos

Q: Congratulations, Fred, on winning the giveaway! Tell me a bit about yourself.

A: Thanks, Ted! It's a dream come true. There's not much to share, really. I'm just some guy that works at a deli.

Q: Awesome! Tell me, do you like Fizzy Pop?

A: I love Fizzy Pop! I love soda!

Q: Nice! Well, I hope you have a wonderful experience at the island paradise!

A: Thanks, Ted! It's a dream come true!

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Fred did the little interview that the rep asked him to do. It was over in one take. Some photographer took a picture of Fred with an airplane ticket, oversized, and Fred managed to smile winningly. No rehearsal or anything. Fred just said some pleasing words, and the rep was very happy that he was cooperative and wasn't too show-boat-y. The rep thought Fred was a cool dude, albeit super boring. Ordinary.

The interview was plastered on the company's website. The local news team did a little story on Fred. Fred presented himself amicably and managed to look excited. And he was. It was an island getaway, for god's sake. Margaritas. Girls in bikinis. Beaches. Sand. Sandcastles.

The customers all congratulated him on winning. Bill, the deli owner, was happy for Fred, too, as was Susan and Charles. They knew how monotonous of a life Fred lived, and they were relieved he was going to actually do something for once. Go somewhere. The guy didn't even have a girlfriend, and they saw him at the local bar once or twice. Did Fred even go out? What was he, some robot man?

"It'll be hard to keep the place running without you, Fred." Bill, the deli owner, joked.

"Yeah, we'll miss you." Susan pouted. "I wish I can go, too!"

"You better buy us some souvenirs!" Charles poked Fred in the shoulder.

"It's only a week. But yeah, I'm really excited! I can't believe I won!"

Fred had said this line for the millionth time now, but he didn't mind. Much. He really was excited.

Sandcastles~

His parents were happy for him, too. They were worried about Fred. He'd been so...level. They were glad he was stable and wasn't getting into trouble. But they worried about him. Parents will always worry, even about someone as lukewarm as Fred.

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Mr. White was lounging in a chair, smiling. He was drinking the finest of whiskeys.

"It couldn't have went better. That kid is the most average of Average Joe's I've ever seen. Said all the right things. Wasn't show-boat-y or anything. The perfect PR material."

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People were truly inspired by Fred's story. Here was some guy, that works at a deli, winning the vacation of a lifetime. It made people dream. There was an uptick in lottery sales, and Fizzy Pop. People either thought he was very deserving of the win, or just some lucky bastard. Well, haters were going to hate.

That was Fred's fifteen minutes of fame. And it was summertime. Fred went flying on a jet plane. First class. He was like some sort of country bumpkin, marveling at the comfy chair. All that leg room. And the attendants were so pretty! And so nice! Fred drank the best wine he ever had in his life. Living a little wasn't so bad, he thought, and he hadn't even landed yet.

The company had went all out with this giveaway. It truly was an island paradise. They had booked a nice room in a high end hotel for the winner. Free meals. Tours. The works.

As for the soda tax, the federal government passed a very tiny sales tax on beverages. A lot of people were upset, and the liberal party's popularity plummeted. Maria cooled her jets, too, and didn't introduce any new policies in the county. She was exhausted. She had become the face of soda tax. She dreamed in soda tax. She wasn't even particularly into the soda tax. She just found herself in a national political thing. Her hair, indeed, turned white. And she really liked her brown hair, too. Well, there was always hair-dye.

Fred wasn't thinking about any of that. He was looking forward to his vacation.