Flash Friday 05/04/2013: Run From Your Life
“But nobody wants our spam,” Robin said. “People want comments that actually acknowledge their blog or what they wrote, not this…” he re-read the comment. “This nonsense.”
“You will quiet your tongue,” Priest Ansley said, raising his posture, “if you knew what was good for you. Enter the spam message as Glywen, Goddess of Spam has commanded you to. To fail to do so would show betrayal of the highest degree. Type the message as it appears, or face immediate expulsion.”
Robin stared at the comment, crestfallen. Ever since he began blogging in his spare time, he had developed a love for making comments that made actual sense. His words brought happiness to those who he talked to, even when he had to hide everything when the high priests came to check on him. He had a good run until they installed the monitoring software, at which point his altruistic side was open for all to see. Now, he was being put under pressure for the sakes of staying in the cult.
He gave the comment he was forced to write another read, in case it somehow changed between the last time he looked and him giving up on any chance of getting out of this place alive. He should have felt lucky that, in his hand, was a card blessed by Glywen Goddess of Spam herself, a direct message from those beyond the mortal realm to her followers. He found it hard, however, to find the value of such a god-given gift when it read ‘come to http://www.authentic-cheap-watch-4-u.com for your best watch needs! 24/7 special delivery to all world! fast payment, you become happy customer in moments!’.
He glanced at the comment box. It wasn’t just any comment box, not one randomly selected as usual by the Blog Scriers of old. The box in front of him linked to one of his favourite blogs, the one he said such nice things to in secret. Now, after earning the blog owners trust, he had to betray them with a spam comment to the back. It was like the assassination of Caesar, except if he was bludgeoned to death with a barrage of adverts that he never wanted.
Robin rested his fingers on home row.
‘Hello,’ Robin typed. He knew better than to launch into the spam comment itself. Bitter pills were always coated with sugar, after all. ‘This is a finely written blog post, and I have had great pleasure in reading it. If you would be so kind as to listen to this one of a kind offer I have for you, I would be grateful’.
He removed his fingers, wiping his brow with his wrist. He looked at Priest Ansley, who spared him no mercy despite his efforts, beckoning him to continue writing like a man telling a dog to go fetch. This was it. They were being serious about this.
Robin returned his fingers, staring at the card. All it would take is a few sentences, one betrayed friendship, and he would be accepted back in their ranks. That was all that was needed, he told himself.
His mind rose to full height. “‘That’s all?'” it said to him. “You can’t say a betrayed friendship is a small thing. You’re giving up something that somebody holds dear in order to pollute the Internet with the digital version of raw sewage. Do the right thing. Give up on the cult. They have nothing for you.”
His mind was making perfect sense, which was a relief, given that it was his.
Robin’s fingers twitched. The priest tutted and tapped his foot on the floor, expecting movement from Robin. What he got was indeed movement, but not one that he wished to see.
What the priest saw was Robin type the words “Make room for me to stay over”.
And then, before Priest Ansley could stop him, Robin clicked the ‘Post’ button.
“You fool!” the priest hollered at Robin, but it was too late. Robin had already began to run towards the door, desperate to find sanctum from outside of the Church of Her Advertisement. He had to find his friend, find shelter, and — most importantly — find a spam blocker that can deflect the concentrated attacks that the Priests can unleash upon those who spit in their face and live to tell the tale.
But for now, he had to run.