Original stock by desdemonasmothered
A young woman, AMY-LEE, wears a ten-store dress that tries to look nice but fails. Her makeup is perfect, though. On the other side of a desk sits MR. ORACLE, a slimy tech agent with a nice hat, an e-cigarette, and a suit that’s fresh off a dead man.
You want a job? Really? A short li’l NSFW like you? Ell oh ell, darlin’. You itchin’ to make something of yourself in tech town? Who you think you gonna work for? The Googs? The Twits? Face Man? You don’t stand a chance.
Don’t you talk to me like that!
Zip it, Nevada. I’ll talk to ya however I want. You may be a former camgirl with a chip of gold, but what are you now? You ain’t no techie. Camgirls ain’t got no place in salary land. Only thing a bit of ambition’s gonna make you is a cammer in the slammer!
I ain’t no newb! I got what it takes!
You might think so now, but I got some bad news, sister: Face Man don’t want no eight-bit loser like you. The Googs only hirin’ cybies these days, and I don’t see no plates on that soft li’l shell of yours. Or you gonna go beggin’ Bitties from some no-network backwater? Lift your skirt for some Yahoos? Make them Reddies shell out for selfies? Fat chance! Yer washed up. Ping’s out for the count. Cables pulled. No signal. You got a profile only a mother would friend. It’s crunch time and you ain’t got no Dew, girlie. Now scram!
A security guard pushes Amy-Lee toward the door. She fights back, hard, but it’s no contest. She squeezes out a few words before she gets the boot.
Oh I’ll show you, I will, ya big meanie! I’ll show you and all your vaporware crew! Tag my words, Oracle, you haven’t seen the last of Amy-Lee!