2025 Chapter Boxes
[polish and clarify between prompt world and live action]
One box is nestled in the meadow. A puff of wind starts a subtle scritch scratching of green blades against the flickering display. Thousands of boxes are scattered among the verdant, wild grasses and fescue, an almost pastoral analog if not for the black bedlam of graphic jabber. The sun transits the blue vault above the meadow of cubes, the shadows stretch and the day goes by.
The meadow and boxes bask in late afternoon sun, and the jangle of box displays is mellowed by an overlay of gold.
A hiss and metalic rattle far off, getting louder. A bicycle and rider are approaching.
English and Chinese characters appear on the box "DEHYDRATED RATIONS" and a graphic of a sushi roll with raindrops above. The text and graphics persist, then blink off and on several times, as if signalling. The sides of the cube go blank and an animated ad for a fast food franchise with canabalistic overtones is displayed.
A different box displays "SOCIAL GAMES" with graphics of cards and dice. After cycling the label, an animation promoting "Designer Dave's Liver Detox Drank" garishly beckons.
The whir and clank of a bicycle sounds gets louder. The bicycle and rider are seen at a distance, he stands and pumps the pedals through what must be rather rugged terrain.
The ground jerks by as the front bicycle tire swings awkwardly left and right through clumps of grass. Gray trouser legs come up and down on bike pedals.
"Extemporize", says Joe.
The boxes nearest Joe go blank, and the blankness spreads across the field.
Blackness, and again the glowing green underscore blinks.
"Exposition on boxes as Christian children's show, less gloopy than Davey and Goliath."
The phosphorescent words spool out on the black.
Joe passes the meadow in slow motion, the boxes nearest to him display black dots, one, two, three in a row, which then wink out. This pattern rapidly spreads across the meadow.
Black. A new image begins to render.
Over the entire meadow, the blinking dots are synced on every box. The boxes are linked together for hyper cognition, processing requires but a few hundred pico seconds. The dots appear in box time, below human perception, so Joe and his bike are barely moving. The dots vanish, labels and adverts reappear. Joe's speed returns to normal.
Blackness and image rendering is complete. A movie plays.
Title 'Father'
Narration by Orson Wells.
Rapid edit of still images depicting various cataclysms. Happy cartoon robots packing lunch boxes, airships in the sky and boxes floating down in great swarms.
"A smorgasbord of apocalyptic events threatened the very existence of humanity. Manufactured and deployed by a genius benefactor in secret underground autofax and delivered by robotic airships, relief boxes provide the essential components to help plucky survivors reboot civilization. Hope is here."
Beat.
Title "Son"
In the foreground, new boxes displaying three bold dots, one... two... three... seem ubiquitous and vaguely threatening. In the background, iconic natural formations and monumnents including Devil's Tower and Niagra Falls, Tulsi Gabbard on Mount Rushmore and the Empire State building. Lena breaking branches, boxes with unwinking eyes and ears or microphones sprouting forth, Clique dolls and snow globe apocalypses, symbolizing the idea that it's a toy universe that the Clique play with.
"Unknownst to the squabbling mortals grubbing amongst the shattered ruins of their so called civilization, the salvation of relief box bounty is in actuality a devolved consumer culture honey pot, the boxes are a ubiquitous surveillance and control network deployed by a spiritual elite, the Clique, who are accelerating the evolution of human beings by intensified contrast."
Beat.
Title "Holy Ghost"
Joe as caped super hero, staggering around, dancing at a club (drunk) with a bottle labeled "power", Make America Gay Again, Game Again, Germane Again.
"Unbeknownst to the Clique, a trickster renegade agent, Uncle Joe, has surreptitiously subverted the box network in support of his own cockamamie scheme, DOG, or Daughters of God, a project which he has so obsessively obfuscated and occluded from his fellow Clique that the objectives are probably not even clear to him."
Joe has passed the boxes and is riding away away. Consumeristic chaff ripples and capers in his wake.
Pedaling vigorously, breathing and grunting with effort, Joe responds with one word. "Cute."