I just wrote a short story about a group of teenager, in a flat, early thirties, going extreme and eating a lot of really healthy organic food, the super expensive stuff costing a lot of money. This serious life style commitment began to imbue food with the qualities of pleasurable drugs. Which they are. A kilo of Pure white horse, were a dozen salmon steaks, eating a organic peasant co-op banana was doing speed.
The more accessible foods, the ones found locally, their drug names were less pharmaceutical. Each drug family also cleverly indicating a particular food group, Tubur's and legumes sharing marijuana's vast lexicon and so on. it was a tad nutty, but so what. Ordering their groceries online, messages to one another, over the phone, texting and even visiting a supermarket, or market garden, speaking: their surveillance file, recorded automatically by a robot with a human presence once every three months, to scan the patterns and delegate a degree of action.
Well this flat came up rather quickly in the world. Justifying, a whole squad of eager young cadets, men and woman green horny, needing love from their superiors, just gagging to get that new car, that new apartment in the cell tower zone marked I matter. They looked in every way just like their targets, fit young healthy. Committed. The prime minister, personally informed, had a chat with them in his office. Behind closed doors, it was a great honor.
The cleaners of the Ministers offices worked for minimum wage on account of being spies for the next rebellious wave to draw a foam spray line on a beach where no one can afford to go. There were incidents of "large shipments" of "neurotech" and "animal grade". Plans were made and on the 21st of this month, I can happily tell you, that all has been cleaned up. There was no need for a trial, the bodies were buried at sea, as if it was all some bizarre boat accident. Drugs are the terrorists of the mind, Don't let anyone tell you differently. Be instead, small and blow up, like a star.