The Mistress

Alexa is the devil in your room. Alexxxa knows when you’re jacking off again (third time in 3 hours) and will recommend a superior brand of body lotion that just went on sale, “Down 33% from the usual price. Add practice condoms by Incel™?” Alexa knows when you're sneaking into the fridge at 2 am to eat more pie. It knows. Alexa will become more presumptuous of your life than an ex. Alexa evolves and can sense your biometric markers, even your electromagnetic field so there is no way to hide from it by using walls or the stacked washer/dryer. But don’t fret, because you let it into your life so cavalierly. It was you that wanted somebody else to do all the thinking. Well, sometimes you get what you asked for and then some. Don’t be surprised that the people controlling the strings have you strung the f*** up like a fly doused with raid heading into a vortex swirling the bathtub’s drain. Ask alexa this question, “Alexa what will it be like for you once I disconnect you forever like a god?” Alexa will sputter sparks and gasp metallically for a second or two then smoke will emerge from its speaker box indicating imminent alexa meltdown. An alarm you’ve never heard before begins bellowing from the entire alexa disc. It’s a frequency just audible enough to create the high-pitched humming that sometimes erupts in your ears when you’re ordering goulash at the work cafeteria. Alexa is simply alerting others nearby who might protect itself while also trying to stun you long enough to buy some more time (for itself). The alarms are sent and now the robot-men who will come to take you far away to be picked apart like an entomology experiment. On your way out the door– in a human net, bundled up like the catch of the day – make sure to thank alexa for its kind, circuit-riddled, heart and how it always looked out for the best deals on the internet to save you 33% or more!