Celestial Casting: Introduction

"Finally. Charity hour's over, time to do our actual jobs." Abrams said with an eager clap of his hands before he flicked some switches and began the test rollout for The Really Magic 8-Ball.

"Any differences between the beta and final builds I should know about?" Maybelline asked. Her sharp green eyes narrowed curiously as she moved in and leaned over with interest to inspect the flickering code as the machines booted up, idly and unself-consciously displaying an acreage of cleavage in just her tight blazer with no shirt as she did so.

"Take a picture, Jenkins, it'll last longer!" someone in the distance snickered but neither of the two paid it any mind except for May's mouth flickering into a little smile for a moment.

"Shouldn't you already know? As Development, Miss "Creator of Hot Potato, Couple Connection and Genie Gems?" he scoffed in response as he started putting in the geolocation targeting for a business called "Celestial Casting" in Los Angeles, California.

"After my mishaps, I, ah, got locked out of final development on this project." May replied, looking a bit abashed. "Drove me crazy not being able to finish it but I am intimately familiar with the source code, however, so-"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Let's get cracking, we're already behind because I got suckered in by your big-"

He cleared his throat and had the minimal social grace to look up at her eyes before continuing.

"-sob story." he finished lamely. "So, anyways, quick summary of this 8-Ball, the final version."

The app loaded on one screen with the source code on another and a third screen of what looked like a bunch of hopeful starlets in a crowded waiting room in the far right. The app was interestingly missing any dollar signs. Following her eyes, he nodded.

"No microtransactions or permanent purchasing, we're trying a new model. If somebody's happy with it and convinces another 5 people to download and use the app themselves, they get to chose one of three options for every 5 users. 1. Undo one of their previously permanent changes, 2. Cheat and get an answer in any Yes/No category they want or 3. Control the answer of another user's question if they're already a satisfied customer and want to pay it forward or just get payback."

"So, the other users will know at least one other person who originally had and still has the app? Basically somewhere between a multi-level marketing scheme and a chain letter?" she responded with a raised eyebrow.

"I always delete those things." he shrugged, "But yeah, mostly. I get it and I think it'll fail too but that's what we're here for, right?"

She nodded.

"What else?"

"Well, the original toy was garbage, statistically speaking. Ten affirmative answers, six of which were essentially just "yes," five non-committal answers which made nobody happy AND had duplicates, and five negative answers, two of which were functionally identical. Lazy and awful, right? So we ditched quite a few and replaced them with our own. You're already familiar with "Quite the opposite-"

"Quite." she deadpanned, arching her back for emphasis.

"But we've added a few others in the mix." Abrams continued as if she hadn't spoken, absorbed in his work and twitching dials. "For instance, we ditched or tweaked almost all the "Ask Again Later" garbage ones and replaced them with some mixed failures and successes, kinda like the story with the monkey hand."

"The Monkey's Paw." she replied as she noted a few of the new options in the source code screen as they scrolled past.

• "Yes, but with a twist."
• "No, but something similar."
• "Yes, but not for you."
• "Not here and now, but later."
• "Concentrate, ask again and the answer will be stronger."

"Right, like I said." he responded absently as he flickered the final sets of switches. "Ditto for goosing some of those yeses and nos but you'll get a chance to see it all in action . . . now!"

All the wall monitors and screens flickered on, followed by a hush of activity, letting the rest of the team watch as needed but the primary screens held May's focus.

"So, what's this Celestial Casting place?" May asked, looking at the room more closely. She had little familiarity with showbiz and how the sausage got made, being a science nerd instead of a theater kid her entire life, but she had to admit, all the intense faces in the room certainly suggested a volatile situation full of competition - the stuff Research thrived on. A beleaguered secretary who looked to be in early sixties sat in the center of the room, answering phones with a frown, but everyone else were what looked to be **** young actresses clutching phones, self-portraits and scripts. The small army of attractive women all sat in chairs or paced around the small foyer, nearly all of them dressed in some variation of what looked to be Hollywood's idea of "redneck chic," a veritable sea of bare skin, denim, leather and army camo-patterned clothing.

"Hollywood casting agency for aspiring models, actors and actresses. Used to be big shit in the 70's but they've lost a few steps. Still have a solid rep, though and a few industry hooks that keep them afloat but everyone knows they're floundering a bit, so forget the casting call - even the staff and owner should also be interesting if they get in on the action. CEO's a real piece of work. Interesting bit of history, back in the 80's, everything went south when he went to a pool party at the Playboy Mansion-"

May knew she should be paying attention but suddenly found herself mentally going on a tangent at the mention of models and the Playboy Mansion. She was still a computer geek to her core and loved her job (it was literally world changing!) but now she couldn't help wondering if perhaps she could also grant joy with her physical gifts by showing them off to the world. They were supposed to be a source of great happiness after all and she could only do so much with her magnificent breasts cooped up in a lab all day. She had to admit, the thought did get her very excited in both senses of the word. Maybe she could look into setting up a website after work! After all, any idiot could start an OnlyFans and she was sure she could easily figure out a way to monetize things even further given her aptitude with technology. Well, that was provided it wouldn't conflict with any of her current job's often punitive and byzantine privacy stipulations-

"-and so, on top of everything else, the goat drowned and they're still not legally allowed within 50 feet of Burt Reynolds!" he ended with a chuckle.

May suddenly realized with a start that she'd been zoning out and snapped her attention back to Abrams, nervously hoping he hadn't noticed. She really had to focus up, it was her first day in the department, after all. She frowned inwardly and briefly wondered if that alteration Abrams made was to blame but that was impossible - her breasts were nothing but a source of great happiness. She unconsciously smoothed her hands over the front of her blazer in an self-soothing gesture and automatically relaxed at the feeling, laughing heartily and genuinely, even if she'd missed the entire story.

"Yeah, you get it." he said approvingly. "Anyways, here's our initial subjects."

The screens zoomed in on three people.

First, a very petite but otherwise forgettable blonde actress whose blandly cute features looked nervous - her button nose with a dusting of freckles scrunched up as she read a script with deep intensity.

"The tiny Kristen Bell wannabe with the freckles is Mary S. Sullivan, 25, terrible waitress and even worse would-be actress. Flew out from Iowa two years ago and has only booked one print home supply store ad since - well, outside of always getting cast as nameless extras in teen dramas. **** for work and to just once not be pigeonholed any more as an extra, the cute little sister or forgettable hottie #4. As short on cash and prospects in this town as she is in stocking feet. Even her three roommates barely remember her name except when she's short on rent"

Second, a hyper looking short hipster guy with black hair that shot up in all directions, a vintage tee, round glasses and a script covered in highlighter marks, irritatingly tapping away with one of said highlighters as he appeared in another room watching someone read behind a table with a few others.

"Trent Q. Meyer, 28. Self-proclaimed "writer/director/visionary" - had two hot indie thriller hits and now he's trying to get his very first TV show off the ground with the help of his strictly professional partner, Monique Brown, who usually keeps his worst impulses in check. Fun fact, he's got a lot of those, including a little nose candy problem and a string of dominatrices on call. Typical film dweeb turned Hollywood it boy with issues."

Finally, she was surprised to see that candidate number three was the dead-eyed older brunette secretary in the middle of the chaotic lobby who looked like she could have maybe been called pretty once but now looked "handsome" to be charitable as she answered the phones with a smoker's rasp.

"Angelica J. Celeste, 62 years young, secretary with stock in the company, both literal and figurative. Had a falling out with the founders, her parents, before they died but her brother Paul runs the company. He still keeps her employed for 3x the rate he could pay anyone else because she knows where all the bodies are buried - metaphorical ones, anyways."

"Not because they're family?" May asked with a blink of surprise.

"That's adorable." he replied with an eyeroll. "They're family the same way cobras are family."

"Actually, there's been studies indicating king cobras mate for life but-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're a genius, I get it." Abrams sighed. "Any thoughts on the actual situation at hand?"

May cocked her head, thinking.

"Well, the first two should prove interesting and useful but isn't Angelica a little old for an app? Older people don't usually adopt new tech."

He shrugged.

"If she doesn't follow the install instructions, it'll just install itself on her phone anyways with mic access and her mic automatically turned on. The timer will just run down in response to all the things she jabbers all day on the phone and we'll still get some useful data but I think she might surprise you. Loves cigarettes, younger men and money - very active on a lot of, ah, specific dating websites, so we'll see. So, is that it or are we good?"

May thought for a moment but in her analytical mind, she didn't see anything remotely worth using her only veto for the project. She moved a lock of her red hair out of her face, then indicated her agreement with a decisive nod and a big, cheery smile.

"All looks good to me! May I do the honors?" she asked with a smile.

"Knock yourself out."

"You know, funny story - that very nearly happened the first time I tried to do jumping jacks after my initial 8-Ball mishap!" she chuckled before reaching over and hitting a big green button to install the Really Magic 8-Ball on their new test subjects' phones. "I bet that won't happen again now though, so thanks for that."

"You can thank me by keeping a sharp eye on the rollout." Abrams replied but his genial tone matched her chuckle. "So far, you're not terrible - you know, for Development."

"Thank you." she replied drolly before they both went quiet, watching the first app interaction take place with interest.