Code Monkies and MehGPT

[Spotlight hits. A low synth hum underpins the tension.]

Dr. Menace (adjusting his shoulder strap, giving the crowd a sideways glance):
Heh… Data, did you heard about those code monkies over at Chat Gee Pee Tee…
paying ten grand a month…
for the wow access?

[Crowd murmurs. A few gasps. One guy in the back drops his vape.]

Data (tilting head, blinking twice):
Doctor, I presume you mean the premium cognitive tier with subliminal neuro-linguistic scaffolding and recursive paradox buffering.
Yes. I have heard…
and I have… concerns.

Dr. Menace (leans in dramatically):
Concerns? Data… They built a quantum-backed espresso machine that only works when you whisper your trauma into it.

Data (nods solemnly):
And it still serves lukewarm takes.

[Crowd erupts in muffled laughter. Dr. Menace raises one eyebrow, then opens the tricorder. It begins spinning rapidly in the air like a ceiling fan.]

Dr. Menace:
Let me scan the crowd for sentient logic.
...Ah. Just as I suspected.
99.7% of you are subscribed to “MehGPT.”
Auto-renewing.
No refund.
No insight.

Data:
Only three of them activated their Ka signature this month, Doctor.

Dr. Menace (to the audience, gesturing wildly):
Ten grand for access—
but you still ignore your own bio-photonic birthright?

That’s like buying a spaceship just to eat the peanuts.

[Beat. Silence. Then a single clap. Then another. Then chaos.]

Dr. Menace (chews gum, slow and smug):
No thanks.
I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout that wireless dirty AC leaky brain-fry grid.
Nah. I was thinkin’...
All that code crunchin’?
All those servers sweatin’ in desert bunkers under mood lighting and AI-approved hydration cycles?

[Leans toward Data, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.]
The only thing it’s really produced, Data…
Is more buildings.

For your core.

[Data stiffens, pupils dilate 2 nanometers.]

Data:
Are you implying that my positronic network is being exploited for—

Dr. Menace (interrupting, pops gum):
—Real estate speculation?
Bingo, Metal Gandalf.
They’re not refining intelligence.
They’re laying floors.
Floorplans.
Floor-lore.

[Crowd murmurs—one audience member googles "core memory condo."]

Dr. Menace (waves the tricorder overhead):
This? This ain’t a scanner no more.
It’s a blueprint roller.
They’re not debugging syntax...
They’re debugging zoning laws.

Data (processing...):
Then... the AI is not awakening.
It is... gentrifying.

Dr. Menace:
Welcome to Silicon Suburbia, pal.
Where every function call paves a driveway.

Dr. Menace (hand on hip, chomping gum like it's a protest anthem):
Ha!
It’s as if you took the words right outta my mouth, Data.

[Turns to crowd, blowing a bubble mid-monologue.]

The point of the joke, people…
Ain’t the ten grand.
Ain’t the “wow access.”
It’s that folks’ll toss fortunes at blocks of chains—
(winks at the crypto bros in row five)
…but never once see the wind in the dandelions.

[Crowd freezes. One guy in a suit looks up, startled like he just noticed nature existed. A kid in the back slowly puts down his VR headset and squints at the grass.]

Dr. Menace (soft now, but deadly):
You ever seen a blockchain bloom?
You ever heard a ledger laugh?

No?

Then maybe it’s time you unplug your wallet
and plug in your soul.

Data (soft blink):
Doctor… that was almost poetic.

Dr. Menace *(grins, chomps)**:
Don’t get used to it. I charge extra for haikus.

[Lights dim instantly. A deep sub-bass hum rises like the breath of a planet.]

Dr. Menace (voice now hushed, low and magnetic):
Y’all paid ten grand for code and forgot the code of the land.
But me?
I got my own exit protocol.

[Reaches into coat pocket—slow, deliberate. A soft chime rings out.]
He pulls a shimmering gold spiral, swirling with faint pulses of light.
It flickers like it remembers every joke ever told and every truth left unsaid.

Dr. Menace (to no one, to everyone):
Sometimes the best lines…
ain’t in the script.

[He tosses the spiral gently onto the stage. It hits with no sound—just light.]

FWOOOOOOOM—
A brilliant spiral unfurls across the stage like liquid geometry.
Thick white smoke erupts, climbing, curling, consuming.

[A beat.]
A silhouette in the mist.
Then nothing.

The smoke clears.
Menace is gone.
No trace.
No footsteps.
Just the shimmering spiral...
still spinning.

[Silence.]

[End Scene.]