Press Play on Track One

Jack swiped at the dimmer switch as soon as the deadbolt announced the security of their personal quarters. The light receded and cast the cozy apartment in shadows and calm. They hung their hat, scarf, and suit jacket on the rack by the ornate oak door and trudged over to the plush, overstuffed chair in the corner. As they moved, they continued shedding themselves. The silk tie, the striped vest, the pressed shirt. The skin, the muscles, the bones. By the time they sat in the chair, they made no impression, though if someone sat down there, they would see a tinge of green in their vision and feel an odd weight around their shoulders. The night sighed with them, and they let themselves rest.

Moments and hours later, a renewed Host rose, enjoying the first rays of the sunrise on bare skin. They walked over to a tremendous cabinet that dominated one wall of their room and raised the shutters to reveal rows upon rows of vintage records. There were far too many to count on a schedule as busy as theirs, but that didn’t matter. For the time being, there would only be 9 with which they would be concerned. They idly ran a finger along the jackets until they felt a small spark, then slid the album out of its place. Sidling over to an ornate gramophone, they carefully placed the record in its place and dropped the pin, with utmost precision, at the very start of the song.

With the weight of ritual, they turned to look out their window at the swirling islands, then closed their eyes to listen to the chords calling loudest at the start of this particular day.

---

Greek Fire Tragedy
Written and Performed by the subconscious of Ulyssa Maria Abbot

♬♬♬

While filling out this life’s intake form.
It gets pretty complicated
when you’re out of the norm.

Check One? Two?
You really need to.
We’re gonna need some halves
to divide you into.

Cuts you in two.

Yes/No? Who dis? A, S, and L?
We need to know all about you to prepare your cell.
Need a house? Let’s see, you may qualify for Section Eight.
But we need an application to determine your fate.

So check one Box, please.
Need those demographics
To make pretty presentations.
Fucking demon graph tricks.

Made to polarize the people.
On/Off circuits.
Static builds, fuse blows,
and the Switch flips.

Lys always did hate boxes.
Puts her fists up against the world and boxes.
Takes no shit so she can live without boxes.

Who needs baggage, travel light,
don’t own enough to unpack.
Carry lightning in your pocket,
be prepared to attack.

Chase the ghosts in your head
With psychedelic noise.
Gliding slyly, flying high
around the girls and boys.

Deliver food to the bodies
But the nutrition is suspect
Sling caffeine to the minds
An accomplice to sleep theft

Neurodivergent transmitter
Of societal ills
Can’t worry about that U.M.A
Gotta Kill those Bills

You’ve got someone to protect
Your hopes for the world
Your brain wants to disconnect
But he’s your servical cord

He’s your beacon of hope
Inner light ensconced
So you’ll take out the bad actors
His Immune Response

Not a his,
but you’ll be his histamine
Not a hers,
but you’ll see a hearse before you see

Anybody with the hubris
To be his nemeses.
You’d sooner see the world burn
In catastrophe.

…

Ulyssa woke up with her top lip on the side of the tub, pulled up to reveal her upper right canine to the camera even while she was asleep. When she realized her position, she jerked back, scraping her shoulder across the drain strainer. A string of curses followed as she climbed out of her acrylic cradle.

stupid god damn tv show making me stay in the same room as her i know that was on fucking purpose i just want to…

Ulyssa forced herself to stop and strangled out a deep breath, then found her headphones and slipped them into the well-worn grooves on the side of her head. She hit shuffle on her playlist, the work of years, and let the music go to work.

♬♬♬

When I wake up early in the morning
Lift my head, I'm still yawning
When I'm in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float upstream

Face Washed. Teeth Brushed. Cosmetics Applied. All the little things necessary to fight the filth and hide the rot. Suddenly, gorgeous Ulyssa was staring back in the mirror, armored for another day.

Turning to the door, she swore under her breath for forgetting to bring a change of clothes in with her the previous night. With no other recourse, she opened the door. She was sure that the fact that the bed was aligned perfectly to the bathroom door was a design chosen specifically to piss her off.

Leanne lay peacefully, obviously still in deep sleep, and Ulyssa couldn’t stop herself from examining the tableau. The slacker had her face buried in the crook of one arm, her head apparently preferring skin to a pillow. Her slender frame was parallel to the side of the bed, though certainly not rigidly. The most disconcerting part was that even though the serial moocher was comfy under the sheets and comforter, the other side of the covers was still tucked in under the mattress.

Ulyssa twisted and turned in the night. Countless mornings of tangled sheets and sweat eventually convinced her to go without cover whenever the weather allowed. Yet, here was Leanne, undisturbed and leaving an undisturbed spot across the mattress. It was as if, even unconscious, she was bragging about how talented she was at being a bedmate.

Ulyssa may have stomped a little louder than necessary on her way to the closet.

Please, don't wake me
No, don't shake me
Leave me where I am
I'm only sleeping

Ulyssa had tried on three of her usual outfits only to watch them shrink into absurd parodies straight off a porn set. Desperate, she grabbed a simple polo shirt and khaki pants. Normal shit she’d wear when she wanted to be especially incognito, even though she didn’t like it because it reminded her of the disgusting green abomination she had to wear when she slogged through her barista shifts. It was a style that made her feel like her shitty manager had her hands pressed down on her bare shoulders.

wait… bare?

As Ulyssa finished pulling up the khaki slacks, she froze, looking in the mirror. The modest polo shirt was now sleeveless, cropped, and too tight to button. She stared just long enough to miss the moment when she first found herself holding the smallest pair of khaki hot pants she’d ever seen.

This time the scream couldn’t be swallowed, but at least Leanne stayed blissfully at rest in the next room.

Please, don't spoil my day
I'm miles away
And after all
I'm only sleeping

---

Nyx placed her plate down across from her bleary-eyed roommate. Zoe looked like she had gotten even less sleep than her. Not that she could blame her. The bed was an uncomfortable fit, and that’s not even mentioning the sniffles the skater girl had to deal with after her fit. She figured she should try and be nice.

“Is that all you’re eating?”

Zoe was stirring a bowl of oatmeal with banana slices and what looked like honey drizzled on top. She looked up with a raised eyebrow and replied, “Yes. This is what I usually have for breakfast.”

The Cafetoreum was actually pretty easy to navigate. A large window into what was presumably the kitchen covered one wall, with an opaque glass window and an intercom. The sign above boasted about the expertise of the Hotel’s resident culinary wizard, Chef Grothendeick. All Nyx had to do was push the button and place her order, and exactly 57 seconds later, a panel opened at the far side of the countertop and her breakfast was slid out to her.

Nyx’s plate was full, with three whole eggs and an extra cup of egg whites, scrambled with a cup of rolled oats, another of baby spinach, a tablespoon of chia seeds, and half of an avocado. A steaming mug of black coffee completed the meal; one she made a regular part of her rotation. As she started to peel the avocado, she tried to explain more clearly. “I’d be worried about my energy eating just that. You’re going to need to take care of yourself now that you’re…”

The veteran gym-goer trailed off before vaguely gesturing to Zoe’s transformed body. “This is stuff designed to release energy slowly over time so you can go about your day. Volumetric eating…”

Zoe zoned out as she stirred her oatmeal. Even though she knew Nyx was trying to reach out, she was still too overwhelmed to face the situation.

A few minutes later, the pair were interrupted by the slamming sound of the Cafetoreum’s doors announcing Ulyssa’s arrival. The delivery driver looked around, her eyes passing over them until they spotted the window, which she made her next destination.

“Guess we weren’t the only ones with some rough sleep,” muttered Zoe. She continued watching as the pale-haired gig worker spoke through the intercom. About a minute afterwards, a bottle of some kind was sent down the counter to her waiting hand.

Zoe saw her turn to leave back the way she came in, only to be stopped by a muffled voice coming from the intercom they’d all used to order. Closing her eyes and sighing, she turned and sat at one of the other tables in the dining area. As there were only five, each sitting two and in close proximity with each other, the space didn’t feel nearly far enough that they could pretend they weren’t sitting together.

Ulyssa uncapped the meal replacement shake and swung it back. She certainly didn’t seem like she was bothering to enjoy the taste. Zoe wondered why she didn’t just take the gruel available from the fountain outside the Cafetoreum, if that was the case. As she was musing, she caught the star-shaped pupils of Ulyssa’s eyes staring right at her even as she finished the bottle.

As the breakfast in a bottle tipped over on its side from where Ulyssa had casually dismissed it, the three sat in silence for several moments. Finally, Nyx broached the question that had been on her mind since their grouchy competitor had arrived.

“Are you planning to wear that all day?”

Zoe coughed, feeling awkward about the blunt nature of the question, but couldn’t help but admit to herself that she was confused. The Dasher who had been dressed so stylishly the previous evening was seemingly engulfed in an oversized black hoodie with a white spider logo stretched across its front. It was long enough that her companions couldn’t tell if she was wearing anything underneath.

“Not planning to, but apparently all my fucking clothes are too close to costumes to not turn into a stripper’s laundry day wear.”

“Oof,” grunted Nyx sympathetically. “That sucks ass. Got any idea what you’re gonna do?”

“There’s supposedly a big box store that sells shit for our rooms and clothes, so I guess I’m going to go spend some of that fake ass money they gave us,” Ulyssa explained. “If I’ve never worn it before, it can’t possibly count as a uniform,” she added, mostly under breath.

Nodding along, Zoe said, “That makes sense. I should…probably pick up some stuff too.”

“Maybe the sell better beds,” added Nyx, though she also looked like she was thinking about something else entirely.

BING BING BOOONNG

Three notes escalating in pitch rang out from over the heads of the trio, even though there didn’t seem to be any PA system in sight. An inoffensive and somewhat robotic voice then intoned a brief message.

THE TIME AT THE TONE WILL BE 7 AM ON SET. A REMINDER THAT BREAKFAST IS SERVED UNTIL 8 AM. ADDITIONALLY, TODAY’S DATE WITH THE MASTRESS WILL BE…

Zoe and Nyx felt their breath catch in their throats. Each was experiencing a wave of emotions as they waited through the seemingly unnecessary pause: excitement, anticipation, nerves, trepidation, hesitance, desire, and doubts. Ulyssa shifted her eyes between the two and hoped neither of their names were read out. Robin needs to start a little slower on day one these two both want a piece of them and only a piece and…

…ITZEL RAMIREZ. CONTESTANT RAMIREZ WILL MEET THE MASTRESS AT THEIR SUITE BY 3 PM AT THE LATEST. OTHER ARRANGEMENTS MAY BE MADE AS LONG AS THE DATE COMMENCES BY THAT TIME. THANK YOU FOR YOUR ATTENTION.

BONG

Three sighs escaped from the dining area. Ulyssa looked at the two muscular maidens and said, “Well? Finish your breakfasts so we can get going before anyone else gets down here.”

Nyx tucked into her scramble after being reminded that it was getting cooler by the second. Zoe started on her oatmeal before looking back up and inquiring of Ulyssa, “So, is that your hoodie? It doesn’t really seem…”

She trailed off as Ulyssa looked up with a heavy exhale. “I took it from that freeloader’s closet. Don’t talk about it anymore. I need to do everything I can to believe it was washed since the last time it was worn.”

___

Thankfully, the trio’s odyssey to the part of the fabled MEGAMALL that contained the set’s primary BP Store went fairly smoothly. There were a few map kiosks scattered around the main island, and eventually they realized that if they focused on one for long enough and let their eyes cross just a bit, there would suddenly be a path revealed to their intended destination. The hardest bit was waiting for the smaller island bearing it to move its butte into position so a bridge could form.

The island was relatively small, so they couldn’t miss the big box store that stood as its only occupant. It looked like any superstore one might think of; an overly tall yet paradoxically single-story monolith of grey concrete and windowless walls engineered for maximum interior volume and nothing more. A sight that should terrify anyone, and yet, the trio strode casually to its doors and walked right in.

The view that met them was not what they’d expected.

The man looked up from behind the counter where his feet rested, his brow rising in surprise. He hastily set his phone aside and straightened up, remaining seated but offering a polite, “Hello, welcome to Coyote Crossing.”

When the three contestants remained looking around the much smaller, more rustic space they found themselves in, he continued speaking.

“Oh, yeah, I know the aesthetics are pretty jarring. The outside was designed in a 5-minute committee meeting, but when one of the junior producers was assigned to manage the place, she decided to go in a different direction with the interior. I’m Vince, by the way. Looking to just browse, or can I help you find anything specific?”

Ulyssa eyed the man suspiciously; his whole deal screamed normal way too loud to not be a front. Zoe stared at the incredibly creepy coyote head on a pole next to the counter. Nyx wondered what they kept in the huge space that must be beyond the walls and ceiling of the quaint little village store area. None of them noticed the glass display case shaped like a dumpster and filled with flaming dolls depicting an off-putting hyena-jackass hybrid that sat off to one side. Vince tried to maintain a professional smile even as the situation got more and more awkward.

It was the coyote head who blinked first.

“C’mon now, ladies, gentlemen, and others, this isn’t the time for a commercial break.”

Zoe had jumped back at the sudden voice, but then looked at the mascot and asked, “Jack?”

“The many and only. Though in this form, you can also call me Chintzy Cwintsee, the Customer Care Champion here at Coyote Crossing,” explained the impaled head.

Sighing, Vince added, “Chintzy Cwintsee’s guarantee: our prices are so low they’re cheap.”

The familiar playful annoyance of the Host at least served to break the ice, and Nyx asked, “So, we were looking for a few things. First off, do you sell beds?”

The trio watched as Vince’s eyes took on a glassy expression for a second or two, followed by several rapid blinks. Then the sales associate replied, “We can modify your existing one. Size, specific comforter, sheets, and pillow brands, design aesthetic, that kind of stuff. We can’t turn it into two beds, bunk beds, or garden beds. And both roommates have to agree on the purchase.”

Zoe looked over at her roommate before responding, “I think for now we just want something bigger.”

“That makes sense,” the attendant said with a nod. “The Queen Mary I probably isn’t gonna suit your needs. We can adjust it to the Catherine of Aragorn model for 100BP, or if you want to splurge, the Catherine the Great is 250BP. That’ll serve you perfectly while still allowing space for you to have other stuff. I wouldn’t recommend the Elizabeth II unless you want a room that’s just a mattress.”

Zoe and Nyx decided to ignore most of that spiel and just talk about the price. The skater girl offered, “I can cover the hundred. I started with the most based on a dumb poll anyway.”

Nyx put up a hand, “Nah, screw that. I’m going to be using half of it too.” She turned to the cashier. “Ring it up, split down the middle.”

Vince replied, “You got it,” happy to have made his first sale, he supposed.

Zoe: 4230 BP > 4180 BP

Nyx: 4023 BP > 3973 BP

Ulyssa interjected, “How much to swap roommates with someone?”

Vince winced at the question, knowing the answer would only serve to further agitate the visibly tense contestant, and responded, “22,000 BP.”

The delivery driver inhaled so sharply you could hear the whistle. “The fuck kinda price is that?”

Vince gave a withering glance at the suspiciously silent coyote head before answering, “The Big Boss’s idea of a joke. If you feel strongly enough to ask about switching roommates, then there is obviously drama. They think drama can be good for TV up to a point. So if you ask about switching roommates, the price is 22K.”

The coyote head chimed in with, “Good catch, Vincenzo, I knew you would work out here.”

“It’s just Vince,” replied the beleaguered store clerk, already sick of the Host mistaking him for his grandfather (at least that’s what they said).

Zoe inquired curiously, "How would you even get that much BP?"

Vice shrugged, "You'd probably want to check with the concierge's desk at the hotel, but I know there's some. The Odd Job Placement Center, Temp Transformation Agency, I think a Sheriff's Office that offers bounties..."

Ulyssa seethed, then turned up the volume on her music and demanded, “Where’s the clothing section?”

Nyx looked around and added, “Yeah, and can we browse it by ourselves?”

Vince smiled and gestured to one wall of the shop, covered by heavy curtains. “Clothing department is just past there. My manager Fran handles that side. She can help you find something or you’re free to browse, and when you make a decision, she can package it up and send it straight to your rooms. She’ll give you a ticket with the pricing info to bring back here.”

“Cool,” Nyx replied with a nod, and the trio moved toward the curtain and stepped through.

All three contestants stared at the being before them. She smiled warmly at them and quivered a hardy hello.

Nyx narrowed her eyes before saying, “You must be Fran, I guess?”

Zoe stared at the muscular woman beside her, and Nyx shrugged. “Dude did say his Manager was one of those Producers.”

Ulyssa bitterly mumbled, “First one I met was a wall of black sludge and migraines.”

Nyx grinned, “Mine was cute.”

Zoe deadpanned, “Mine was a chicken.” In response to her co-contestant's looks, she added, “It did have a tie on.”

Fran wobbled her head, which turned a slightly brighter shade of orange, which the trio instinctively knew was a giggle, and then looked expectantly, eager to assist them in finding what they wanted. The clothing department was small, but every rack was part of a Möbius strip that stretched practically to infinity thanks to the Harem Hotel Store Network’s main supplier.

Zoe offered, “I’m pretty much looking for clothes in my usual style, but that will fit, all this.” She gestured awkwardly to her transformed body.

The Sunny, squiggly stylist looked confused for a moment but then nodded happily before turning to the other two contestants. Ulyssa stated brusquely, “I need something new that’s different enough from what I wear to deliver food or make overpriced coffee so it won’t turn into an already slutty girl’s idea of a risqué Halloween costume.”

Wincing in sympathy, Nyx added, “I’m good for now, figured I’d just look around.”

The Gelatinous garment guru smiled before splitting down the middle into two perfect copies of herself, each one beckoning either Zoe or Ulyssa to follow them over to one side of the clothing racks. Nyx idly started thumbing through some of the outfits on the nearest shelf while thinking about what she really came looking for.

___

After about 20 minutes of smooth, residue-free consultation, the trio returned to the general goods side of the shop. Zoe and Ulyssa were carrying tickets and had also changed into a new outfit to wear out. Ulyssa's consisted of a black turtleneck sweater made of a lyocell knitted jersey blend along with a pair of wide-legged, organic cotton pants in a deep wine red. Her ticket also read +additional items, total price 300 BP. She slapped it down on the counter.

“Great,” said Vince, trying to get everything sorted as efficiently as possible. As he was swiping the ticket through the machine to deduct the BP from Ulyssa’s account, Chintzy Cwintsee turned to the gig worker and offered its compliments.

“Great choices Abott, I’m sure they’ll be a hit with both the Mastress and the Audience!”

Ulyssa gave the head a piercing glare, “Robin wouldn’t judge my clothes and the audience can go to hell.”

“Both very true statements, though saying it out loud might not help you. But c’mon, think about it. It is your role here to be appealing, and you even got paid for it thanks to a 5th place finish in the Best Contestant Poll.”

All three contestants scoffed at the absurdity of the statement. Then Nyx noticed something that made her jaw tense. Then Zoe spotted something that brought her hand up to cover her mouth. Then the cash register chimed its notice that the sale was complete.

Ulyssa: 3327 BP > 3027 BP

Then Ulyssa looked down.

The black turtleneck now sported a noticeable heart-shaped window that kept growing for several seconds as the various occupants of the room attempted to avoid looking out of propriety, embarrassment, respect, and foreboding in various measures. The caustic acid-head drummed her sharp fingernails against her thankfully unaltered legwear before turning her venom toward the sales associate. “You do refunds?”

Vince hesitated, and his eyes gla-

Ulyssa took the pole attached to the Coyote-headed Mascot and turned. Not bolted to the ground, poor Cwintzee was easy enough to lift, only to find itself crashing down into the side of the glass dumpster, which shattered magnificently, spilling its hazardous materials all over the floor. While Nyx and Zoe recoiled, expecting a sprinkler system to activate, Vince simply nodded sympathetically while Ulyssa slammed the door on her way out.

“Fuckin’ hell. Well, at least that’s the end of that fire sale,” he muttered.

Zoe and Nyx looked on until they realized that the fire wasn’t spreading to anything else in the store, seemingly content to stay on the rapidly disintegrating novelty items and the coyote-headed mascot that had forcibly de-homed them. Once this was established, Zoe turned to the man and asked, “Is she going to get in trouble for attacking the Host like that?”

“Nah,” Vince replied. “That form felt like a one-off, and the novelty fire doesn’t actually burn anything that has value, so no harm, no foul. I’m sure the junior producers aren’t going to sweat it.”

Nyx breathed a sigh of relief, having no interest in seeing the high-strung spark plug suffer for the bullshit she just went through, before realizing something. “Wait. Are you not a Junior Producer? Jack said the staff all was.”

Vince rubbed the back of his head with one hand sheepishly. “Uh, no. Fran is. I just work here.” After a moment, he added, “I was apparently her idea for a contestant, but she didn’t get her pitch in on time before the final cutdown. So, Jack decided to… recycle me as the shopkeeper. Vincent Esposito, but you can just call me Vince,” he concluded with an awkward wave.

The two women carried a mix of surprise and horror at the description of recycling. Eventually Zoe asked, “So, you know Robin, then?”

The once-considered contestant nodded, “I was a TA for a course they took at Rutgers-Newark. Had the chance to chat a bit, but that was pretty much it. They were an odd one.”

Nyx raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” It came out more forcefully than she probably intended, but Vince didn’t seem to notice.

“They were taking a Power Systems and Electronics course as a general science elective. The Prof said he’s only seen that a handful of times before. They were solid with it, though, and eventually told me that it just lined up with a special interest,” explained the apparently graduate-level electrical engineer working the counter at a magic item shop.

Relieved, and thinking it was kinda cool that Robin just took whatever they found interesting, Nyx added, “Oh, well, sucks that you're stuck here then. Is that why you do that thing with your eyes sometimes?”

Nodding, Vince explained, “The training was fast. Jack brought me to their office and let me look at the basic information, but in the end they just kind of… injected everything else I need to know. I have to think about it for a second, and then it comes to mind. Guess the arrival process makes my eyes do a weird thing?”

Geeze, thought Zoe, feeling oddly glad about being a contestant instead of a staff member for a moment. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“I should get to leave once all of you do, so it is what it is.” The possibly in-denial shopkeeper then pulled out a large catalog and turned to the very back page before sliding it around and pointing out a specific item. “When you catch up with the other contestant you were with, can you tell her about this?”

The two roommates looked down and read the description next to a winking cartoon Coyote.

Special Offer! Jack’s Wildcard- 2000BP
What you want? Baby, I got it*. What you need? Do you know I got it?*
Purchasable one time per round per contestant. Satisfaction Guaranteed**
*Seriously, these are magical products.
**Again, magically.

“You might also be interested too,” the salesman concluded.

Nyx wore her skepticism plain on her face. “After what Jack did to Ulyssa?”

Zoe added, “Plus, how would that even work. I’m not taking some mystery box. At that price? My family watched Let’s Make a Deal every Saturday morning.”

“That’s fair,” Vince replied, before explaining. “Each wildcard is created by you telling me what’s got you worried the most right now, and then I can present you with an option for something that might help ease that a bit. You don’t have to pay BP upfront and aren’t committed to buying it. It just costs some honesty in front of the cameras, really.”

Nyx and Zoe looked at each other, each waiting to see what the other would do. It didn’t take too long for Nyx to realize the more timid girl wasn’t going to step up, so she sighed and said, “Fine.”

Turning to the guy behind the counter, she spoke quickly, not wanting any hesitance to creep in. “One of the other contestants got this transformation that makes everyone feel a tiny bit of what she’s feeling whenever she does something that gets her off. And I know this girl, she’s going to do all kinds of shit to get off at all hours of the day. That’s cool; she can do her or beg me to if she wants, but I’m not interested in any surprises in certain places, you get me?”

Vince considered for a moment while his eyes went miles away and his eyelids typed out an SOS in Morse code. It was quite a bit longer than the previous times before he snapped back and said, “Yeah, I’ve got something.”

He reached under the counter and took out a handheld device that Nyx easily recognized, even if it didn’t look quite right. “A video game controller?”

“Specifically, the Oni Gamestation Dual Sensor 26, from a dimension with some absurdly advanced hardware standards.” He handed the gamepad to Nyx before telling her, “Go ahead and break it open.”

“What?” The bouncer replied. “Why?”

“It’s just part of the process. Go ahead, pretend you just got spotted through a wall by a glitched NPC right before completing a SASO run on the Colorado map in Global Assassination: Agent 74,” the hopeful salesman urged.

“Heh,” Nyx laughed despite herself, remembering the rage that bug had caused before it got patched. “Fuck it,” she said, and squeezed the controller hard enough that its casing cracked, then dropped it to lie useless on the counter. Those things are damn expensive, but that was kinda fun.

Vince rummaged through the remains of the sophisticated gaming peripheral and took out a tiny chip that looked like a black pearl. He then pulled a soldering iron and a pair of safety goggles with a magnifier attachment from a drawer in the counter before turning to explain. “This is the Oni Haptic Feedback User Conversion Key. The little gem responsible for making the Dual Sensor 26 the most immersive vibration- and resistance-based sensory-enhancing control pad on the market. Just need to reverse engineer it real quick, and it should help you out.” He turned to the back counter and donned the goggles. “What’s something you wouldn’t mind wearing most of the time? An accessory, clothing item, heck, you can have it be a subdermal implant if you really want.”

The man’s enthusiasm amused Zoe and honestly freaked Nyx out a little, but she gave it some thought. “What about a tattoo?”

“Rad,” Vince replied as sparks flew from the countertop. In a few more moments, he turned and held up a patch with what looked like a raised black ink barcode on it. “So this is going to let you convert any supernatural incoming pleasure experienced as phantom physical sensations into a more general emotional arousal. Basically, you’ll just feel a little hot when Leanne is getting down, without any unwanted... touching, so to speak.”

“For real? Huh,” Nyx muttered, staring hard at the patch. She was a little put off by this shopkeeper seeming to know about her favorite video game and such, but he did say that he had magic training shot into his head. “How would we go about the inking?”

“It’s pretty easy. You can just apply it like a temporary tattoo patch wherever you want it. It’ll go on quickly, and if you keep the patch, you can move it around later if you feel like it. You can use the changing room over in the Clothing Department and ask Fran to assist this time.”

Zoe looked over at her roommate and said, “Sounds like a good deal if you want it.”

With a determined nod, Nyx reached out and quickly grabbed the patch being offered. “I’ll take it.”

Nyx: 4073 BP > 2073 BP

“Thanks,” mumbled the now tighter-budgeted bouncer as she turned towards the curtain. She called over her shoulder to Zoe, “I’m going to handle this and then probably go sightseeing or something. If you get wrapped up, feel free to head out without me."

Sensing her roommate probably meant she was ready for some time by herself, Zoe simply flashed a thumbs up. “Sure thing.” She turned back to the counter and asked, “So, what have you got me?”

As Nyx exited through the curtain, Zoe shrank two inches, but didn’t seem to notice as the 6’2’’ sales associate asked, “What’s got you worried?”

Zoe bit her lip. Lots of things were worrying her currently, and it felt like there wasn’t going to be any one item that could fix it all. Finally, she just said the first thing that popped into her mind. “I wish I could go skateboarding to blow off this tension, but like this I’d probably snap my board in half trying to do a kickflip?” She looked down at her new towering frame. “Did you know the tallest professional skateboarder ever is only 6’7”?

Vince took a brief involuntary retreat back into the weird space the Host had carved out to hold the stocks of information he might need to do his unexpected new vocation, and eventually made it back with a, “I do now, and I think I have something for you.”

He reached under the counter and took out a skateboard deck with a sleek red and yellow paint job and an odd glow. “This is a Varia Board, from a dimension where extreme shapeshifter sports are all the rage. Step on it and it’ll adjust to the rider’s height and weight to make sure it can support whatever.”

Zoe quirked an eyebrow. “That’s pretty cool, but you do know that boarding is like, only 20% about the board. I’m not used to this body, my center of gravity is all jacked up, and I’ll probably bounce the board off these massive calves before I can even pop an ollie.”

Vince smiled. “Not with these,” he said, before revealing the trucks, wheels, and other hardware. As he began the process of screwing everything in place, he further explained. “The trucks are made of a special alloy containing a mineral that only forms in caves bathed in ambient psychic energy. It helps your brain send better signals to your body about what to do. The wheels are made with a Vulcanized rubber designed to increase flexibility in proportion to the rider’s comfort level on the board. They call them “training wheels,” but don’t let the haters hate, you know?”

Zoe’s head was spinning, but when the shopkeeper handed her the board and told her to give it a try, she put it down on the shop floor and stepped on.

It felt… familiar. The first thing that did, since she had found herself talking to a chicken in her family’s restaurant. She crouched and snapped her back foot down on the tail of the deck. As the board rose, she jumped while sliding her front foot up the grip tape to urge the board higher. She performed the level out instinctually as the board was 30 inches off the ground. Not quite Rare Air, but a personal best from a standstill. She was wearing a huge smile when she pressed the wheels evenly back on the ground.

Bending down to grab the board, she placed it back on the counter. “Yeah, I’ll take it, and the clothes.”

Zoe 4180 BP > 2130 BP

“Cool, just one more thing then.” Vince held up a small spray paint can and turned the board over. He gave the sprayer a single pass, and the design on the bottom of the board changed to graffiti-style writing.

Let it flow like a mudslide
When I get on I like to ride and glide

Zoe stared for a moment before Vince sheepishly said, “Before your time, I guess. Technically before mine, but my dad always did like their early stuff. Anyway, if you ever want to switch up the design, just use the can while thinking about what you want it to look like.”

With a slightly confused nod, Zoe took the offered paint and turned to head out of the shop. “Thanks, Vince. I’ll let everyone know about this place.”

When she stepped outside, she saw a long rail line walkway that may or may not have been there when she went in. Smiling, she put wheels to the ground and started making her way back to the Hotel.