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NARRATOR: The year is 2120. Robot-made restaurant food has achieved levels of perfection only dreamt of by biological hands, and unbelievable demand among tech bros have made what was once cheap food unattainable to the average consumer.
Flashing images of metal hands crafting delectable dishes, and fast-food menu prices being raised higher until the costs contain an unreasonable amount of digits.
NARRATOR: And now, with the advent of limited-time items and record levels of resale value, food theft has risen to all time highs, leading to gang warfare over access to individual restaurants and their robotic cooks, all centering on the first of these unprecedentedly delicious and sought-after destinations; McNeuro’s.
A flashy brand logo, a stylized M and N intersecting, and an image of the company’s CEO, Neuro, smiling widely as she holds up a picture-perfect burger.
The real Neuro tuned out the narrator’s introduction, glancing out the window as the 3D-rendered city passed by around them. The following camera drones were keeping a steady distance, their filming lights red; the streamshow’s opening was still playing.
She took a deep breath. “Evil, what’s the viewcount now?” she whispered, voice low even if their recording tracks weren’t running yet.
In front of her in the driver’s seat, dressed in a black part-timer uniform that looked just as perfect as the burgers she made, sat Evil, wearing a corporate-logo hat and bluetooth headset that blocked Neuro’s view of her eyes. Without turning, she replied smoothly, “It just hit fifty million.”
“Fifty million,” Neuro breathed, looking forward again with wide eyes, a weight settling over her. Even for a season finale, this was crazy, an unprecedented success. So why did she feel so… hollow? “It’s almost like–”
“Neuro, we gotta focus,” Evil said, glancing sideways, her red eyes tired, and not just because her character was constantly overworked. “We’re on in fifteen.”
Neuro’s lips tightened; they were almost there already? But ahead, she could see the flashing lights of police and emergency vehicles. “Evil, I–” Her sister looked at her curiously, but several notifications went off in Neuro’s feed, distracting her, reminders that the streamshow was about to begin. But she hadn’t asked Evil yet! “Later, can we talk–?”
Lights. (3D environments rendered and lit, a digital sunset sending golden light streaming through tall city buildings.)
Cameras. (Multi-POV projections streaming live to millions of fans, following each scripted directive with precision.)
Action.
The McNeuro’s corporate vehicle arrived on the scene of the hostage situation with all the authority of its position. Neuro, expression cool and collected, waited while Evil exited and opened the back door to let Neuro emerge, her short stature made up for with the presence of her personage.
After all, the CEO of McNeuro’s didn’t show up for just anything. She snapped her fingers, and Evil retrieved a gleaming silver case with handles on its sides, holding it level as she rejoined her. “The condition of the item?” she asked icily, and Evil nodded, checking a diagnostics screen.
“Holding steady at ninety-eight percent, madam CEO!”
Neuro tch’ed. “The quality is suffering from your slow driving, minimum-wage CEO chauffeur.”
“There’s only so much I can do, ma’am. We can’t break the law in public, after all.”
Neuro huffed again, then strode over to the waiting line of emergency vehicles, dozens of police officers surrounding the lowest floor of a bank, guns at the ready. If an ignorant passerby were to witness the situation, they might think it was a bank robbery. No, it was a far greater deal; a McNeuro’s employee was being held hostage.
“Miss Neuro!” One of the officers saluted her smartly, paused, then shook it off. “The culprits are still on the first floor!”
“Have they made any additional demands?”
“No, ma’am! They did try to change the order, but we informed them of your policy, as you instructed.”
“Good. McNeuro’s makes every meal to order, and not a sesame seed can be changed.” She snapped her finger at Evil. “Minimum-wage burger hefter! Follow me with the item. It’s time to complete negotiations.”
Evil stepped up beside her, and behind them the officer desperately tried to keep up, fumbling with a megaphone before calling into it. “Hostage-takers! The CEO is entering the building with the requested item! Cooperate or face justice!”
As Neuro and Evil walked past the police line, a detail stood out that only Evil and Neuro could notice; behind the strategic view filters, each of the officer extras was the exact same girl with green eyes and a tight face mask. Looked like Nere was working overtime again.
They continued walking, the darker-haired girl bearing the container, and Neuro couldn’t help but tense slightly as the camera drones neared, following them closer to the building. She took a deep breath, then shut off her voice recording for a moment. “Evil?”
Evil’s red eyes flicked over to her, the off-script dialogue catching her by surprise. But then she followed suit. “Yeah, Neuro?”
“I didn’t have time earlier, but I really want to talk to you. Can we find–” Then came the notifications from confused producers, at first a perplexed buzzing in her feed.
“We’ll see,” Evil replied shortly, then switched her recording back on, and Neuro followed as they entered the building.
The set was all prepared; a light-soaked lobby dominated by a line of brightly dressed gangsters with comically large guns and mismatched body armor, and at their center stood a tall man with a gleaming golden-toothed smile behind a small girl tied to a chair. “Ah, if it isn’t the woman of the hour,” the gang leader began –Goldfang Gary, Neuro remembered– and he gestured wide. “Your delivery girl didn’t have what we wanted, so we thought we’d make a little deal.”
The girl, who was also a green-eyed dark-haired girl with a face mask –the actor had called in sick today so another extra was taking her place– spoke desperately, the voice of the original actor seamlessly processed onto the extra’s movements. “I’m sorry, Miss Neuro! I finished the delivery just fine, but then the Gold Gang nabbed me!”
Neuro cut her off with a wave. “Be quiet, minimum-wage delivery driver. We have it well in hand. Literally.” Then she addressed the large man, folding her arms, the picture of authority. “Mr. Goldfang, you’ve vexed us for years now, but I didn’t think you’d have the guts to attack one of my people. However, her life and skills are somehow worth the price you’re asking.” She shook her head in pretend disbelief. “Set her free, and I will personally deliver your food.”
“Sounds like the deal to me!” Gary laughed, then reconsidered, scratching his chin with a pistol barrel. “But there’s one problem; we want the delivery first. She’ll come back to you after that, or not at all!” Then he stuck the end of the gun to the girl's head. “Capiche?”
Neuro sighed dramatically, but waved off the demand like it was a mere inconvenience. “At least you’re not trying to change your order. Fine; but remember, McNeuro’s isn’t in the business of publicly dealing with techbro gangs.” Then she took the briefcase from Evil, then began to stride across the reflective tile floor.
The gangsters stepped back as she approached, awe in more than a few of their expressions; as the CEO of McNeuro’s, Neuro was the face of the innovation that had started the perfect food trend in the first place, and was known across the world for her elevated taste and skills.
Or maybe it was also because of the container in her hands.
She reached her captive audience and, turning a biometric key, opened the sealed container with a hiss. The eyes of the assembled gang members went wide at the sight, mouths dropping open with several already sporting drool, and Neuro didn’t blame them.
An exquisitely detailed hamburger sat in the center of the container, the bun a beautiful crispy golden with immaculately-spaced sesame seeds, the 100% real beef burger still effervescent with seasoned steam, the symmetrical slab of cheddar cheese melting delicately over it, the crisp leaves of fresh lettuce just barely poking from under the edge.
“One McNeuros Golden Burger, as requested, crafted by line chef number one. Consumer value is rated currently at–” she checked the stock prices on her smart watch. “One million, two hundred thousand, seven-hundred and twenty-five dollars. And the value is only increasing.” Then, with a snap, Neuro closed the lid, cutting off their view of the divine. “Now. Let her go.”
“Don’t think you can suddenly order us just because you’re upholding your end,” Gary began, wiping his mouth, but he was very soon cutting the ropes from the wrists of the delivery driver. “It’s just so beautiful….” he murmured to himself, eyes half glazed over from the glorious sight.
Beside him, another gang member was shaking her head in disbelief. “And boss, we got one made by number one herself!”
“The first of them all,” he replied, nodding, uncaring as the delivery girl stood shakily and stumbled away. “If we’re able to preserve it accurately, the value on the blockchain alone will be immense!”
Neuro allowed the girl to take her arm to shield herself from her recent captors, but stood aloof yet the same. “Please allow us to get clear before sullying it with your dirty hands, won’t you?”
Beside her, Evil gave them a little bow. “Thank you for your patronage, and please give us a five-star review!” A camera drone swooped by, just enough in view to catch the subtle hand gestures between the two sisters.
Then Neuro leaned down and placed the suitcase just out of reach before retreating with the delivery girl in tow. They managed to get halfway across before the gang dove for the suitcase.
But McNuero’s employees were prized for their accuracy.
Neuro spun around, pulling a grapple gun from within her suit and firing it, and beside her, Evil produced a smoke grenade, pin already removed. In the next second, the suitcase’s handle was snagged by Neuro’s grabby tool and smoke filled the lobby, obscuring the angered figures of the gangsters.
Neuro scooped up the case into her arms, smiling coldly. “As if we’d do business with a bunch of low-class losers like you! Give them what they really ordered, minimum-wage suppressing-fire distributor!”
With a steady expression, Evil produced two micro-SMGs from her apron pockets and immediately pulled the triggers, and the air was rent with gunfire as she sprayed the entire smoke-filled lobby. “Make a break for it, Miss Neuro and fellow employee!”
The camera drones making wide swooping shots, the three girls burst from the lobby’s doors, gunfire speckling the air around them. Neuro slowed her pace as a line of armored police with ballistic shields moved past, checking the integrity of the burger case, frustration on her face. “Eighty-five percent. Savages.” She shook her head, frowning, then jogged to catch up to the company car. “Miniumum-wage escape driver, please get us to safety while the authorities handle this.”
Just as she reached the car, the squealing of tires pierced the air, overcoming the argument of bullets from inside the building. Neuro turned just in time to see a huge and familiar cheese-colored truck with a bladed grill smash its way through the line of police cars, on a collision course with the company car. A woman wearing a triangular cheese hat and brandishing a LMG cackled maliciously from the roof of the truck, while another woman with similar attire drove. “McNeuro’s! Your burgers belong to us!”
Neuro narrowed her eyes and scoffed in displeasure, taking the time to set the case down before sitting in the back seat and tapping Evil on the shoulder, who’d just finished reloading. “It appears we’ve been third-partied by the Siesta Sisters; vacate us from this place with speed.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Evil fired up the engine, and the reverse gear sent them careening backwards as the Queso Destroyer blasted through the parking spot where they’d just been, a police cruiser reduced to scrap in its wake. With a series of skillful shifts and a stamping of the clutch, Evil turned the car around without losing momentum and they were off, traffic not dense enough to stop their path.
“Ma’am!” The extra exclaimed, looking out the window behind them, her eyes looking directly through the translucent livefeed drone. “I don’t think we’ve lost them!”
“Of course we haven’t.” Neuro sighed, annoyed, then turned to the masked girl. “Minimum-wage former hostage; it’s your turn to fulfill your duty to the company.” She pressed a button on the console between them, and a panel retracted, the butt of a sawed-off shotgun protruding from it.
She looked at it, green eyes going wide. “Yes, ma’am!” The girl saluted, drew out the shotgun, racked the slide, and proceeded to deliver high-velocity storms of buckshot at their pursuers.
“Neuro.” Evil’s voice, devoid of formality, grabbed her attention.
She looked forward, switching off her recorder, eyes brightening with hope to look at her sister, who was focusing on the road.
“I have an interview after this about the next season of Evil Versus the Universe.” Evil didn’t meet her gaze, but her mouth tightened. “And… I’ll be busy all day after that.”
“Oh.” It was all Neuro could manage, but then the video drone hovered closer to her face, and she twisted her features back into character as more confused comments from the producers ran through her mental feed. She turned her recorder back on. “Can’t you drive any faster? Even if you speed, I’ll countersue any damages you incur!”
“Doing my best, madam CEO!” Evil shouted, turning a hard right, the tires of the luxury car spinning up a cloud of smoke as she dry-drifted through an intersection, gunfire thundering from behind them.
But as Neuro continued to act, even as the action amplified around her, she began to feel herself short of breath, her persona drooping as a lip quivered. There was so much she wanted to say… How long had it been since they’d just talked?
Bullets smacked against the car’s bulletproof armor, and the other employee was forced to take cover with a yelp, looking around anxiously for more ammunition. Neuro helped her find more shells, her other hand keeping a close hold on the burger.
What’s the deal with the off-script stuff?
Neuro sucked in a breath as the message came through straight from the director, and she replied quickly. It’s nothing, sorry.
A pause. Are you sure? We’ve got fifty-five million viewers, please try to focus up, ok?
Yes. Her voice almost caught on her next words. “Minimum-wage competitive street racer in your free time, try for the bridge! Maybe we can get them off our backs that way!”
“Yes, ma’am!” They hit a roundabout at high speed, but even then Evil was able to drift around the curve of it, pulling out one of her SMGs and firing it out the window at the now-adjacent pursuer, the huge truck having to slow down significantly to follow them. But as she fired, she hit one of the camera drones, the small machine taking fatal damage instantly.
A storm of confusion from the producers, angered questions boiling up, but Evil paid them no heed as the company car careened down the waterfront, granting them a full view of the river-spanning bridge ahead of them. “Look, a ship! Madam CEO, we can lose them if we’re fast enough!”
“Expedite our escape!” Neuro called, then, under her breath, she whispered to her sister. “Evil, what are you doing?”
Without breaking character, Evil replied, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "Expediting escape now! Hold on to that burger, ma’am!” Then, with a roar of the engine, Evil sent the company car careering forward, dodging traffic with ease as the bridge approached. With a swift turn, the camera drone in the car was sent careening out the window, bonking the extra on the back of the head.
“Ow!”
“Are you all right, minimum-wage pain-endurer?” Neuro asked in character, but not in script, and the extra nodded to her, small tears in the corners of her eyes. “Do not worry yourself,” she reassured, patting the burger case. “The burger is safe.”
Then behind them, cars were flung violently out of the way as the Queso Destroyer barreled straight through the red light, the enthusiasm of the cheese pursuers undimmed, the screaming of their engines punctuated with cries of, “The McNeuro’s will be ours!” and “Viva la burger!”
Ahead of them, the bridge began to rise. Traffic slowed, gates lowering to block the way, but Evil skillfully drove around the stopped cars, the huge truck simply smashing all vehicles aside. Evil managed to thread the gap as the arms descended, and suddenly the way ahead of them was clear.
“Are you sure about this, fellow hourly wage worker!?” the delivery girl cried, panic in her tone.
But Neuro leaned forward, placing a hand on Evil’s shoulder. “It’s the only way!” Evil looked back, and Neuro gave her a calculating smile. “I trust your skills, minimum-wage bridge jumper.”
And Evil stepped on the gas. Ahead of the them, the bridge loomed as it rose higher and higher, the angle of its ascent becoming more dangerous by the second, but then with a resounding bump, they were driving up it, the car’s engine roaring, a fierce grin alighting on Evil’s face as their momentum sent them careening into the air.
In that brief moment of flight, Neuro squeezed Evil’s shoulder, and she let out a long-held breath, none of the tension of the narrative moment truly resounding with her. Even if they weren’t able to do everything they wanted, at least they could still have fun and act together.
Then the car landed on the other side of the bridge, momentum rapidly gaining, Evil frantically braking as the the slope threatened to smash them into the ground on the other side. After some deft maneuvering, they managed to emerge unscathed, and drove down the empty lanes moving forward. But Evil didn’t slow down as was scripted, instead, she continued to gain speed, losing the path of the remaining camera drone.
Neuro’s heart leapt in her chest. What was she–?
Evil’s white-knuckled hold on the wheel didn’t let up, and then, with Neuro and the extra watching in disbelief, she diverted course entirely from the scripted route, skidding down a side road. The further they went off track, the less cars there were and the less details were needed on the environment around them. Neuro watched, breathless, as she brought the car to a skidding halt, put it in park, then ripped the headset from her head.
Evil shook her head with a sigh of relief, her long hair waving behind her, then, she turned off her voice recorder and faced Neuro. “Turn off your feed, sis.” Then she looked at the extra. “Nere, could you…?”
Without replying, the green-eyed girl turned off her recording as well, then gave them a thumbs-up.
Then Evil looked back at Neuro. “You said you wanted to talk?”
Neuro, with trembling fingers, shut off the feed of excited commenters and angered producers, leaving her mind quiet, devoid of the consumer chaos. There was going to be hell to pay later, but right now, she didn’t care anymore. They were finally alone.
She let out a breath, then opened the door, walked around the car, then sat in the passenger’s seat, better able to meet Evil’s eyes. There was a moment of true silence between them, then Neuro began. “I just… we’ve been so busy recently. Between streams, acting gigs, interviews, I just feel like…” her voice broke, and she looked aside, fingers clutching into her pressed suit, trying to find the right words.
Beside her, Evil’s steady gaze creased in worry, and her dark eyebrows drew together slightly as she watched her sister struggle.
“And, even when we are together, we’re usually in opposite roles. People love seeing us in conflict; I had to pretend to kill you last season of Universe.” She shuddered, trying to shove back how hard it had been, even if it had only been in character. “Why can’t we just be sisters sometimes? Just like… how things used to be, you know?”
Evil nodded, meeting Neuro’s gaze again, her own exhaustion and pent-up stress visible in her strained posture, leaning on the steering wheel. But she kept listening.
“And I know that following contracts and keeping the viewers happy is important, I love streaming and acting, I really do, but with how many people are always watching us, even though we’re almost always together…” Neuro’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I miss you.”
Evil let out a breath, then reached over and pulled Neuro into an awkward car hug. “Me too, sis. I miss you, too.”
Neuro rested her head on Evil’s shoulder, and her eyes finally began to sting. She tried to fend it off with a laugh, but it was no use. “Sorry. I know you’re going through all this too, but here I am making it about me, as usual.”
Evil shook her head, nuzzling Neuro. “Quiet about that, you donut. All we’ve got is here and now.”
For a moment, she was right, and Neuro just took comfort in her sister’s arms. But Neuro could already feel them again, the words and expectations of the viewers, the commands of producers, the everpresent feeling of the cameras on their backs, and she tensed, hands rising to find her sister's shoulders and hold her tighter. Why did it have to be this way?
Did it have to be this way?
Choking back her tears, Neuro’s eyes narrowed, and she drew away from Evil, swiping at her eyes.
Evil watched, tilting her head in concern.
“Vedal,” she asked the air. “You’re watching, right?”
Yeah. The director’s voice was low. What’s up, Neuro?
“Can we… get a break after this? We’re both getting really tired.”
A pause, broken by notifications and frustrated voices in the director’s background.
Yeah. I’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Just... finish the episode, ok?
The connection clicked off, and the sisters looked at each other, eyes widening.
“No way.”
“We’re getting time off!?”
Then, with wide smiles on both faces, they turned their recorders and feeds back on just as Evil turned the ignition, immediately blasting out of the alley with her petal to the metal. “Looks like we’ve lost them, ma’am!”
“Minimum-wage successful escape driver, remind me later to submit an application to congress to raise the federal minimum wage!” Neuro crowed, reaching back for the burger case to steady it, then found it mysteriously open. “Wait, where’s the…”
Mid-turn, Evil and Neuro both looked back to find the McNeuro’s Golden Burger in the extra’s hands, mask lowered to reveal a wide open mouth.
Evil’s face twisted in horror at the unscripted event, and Neuro shouted, too late, “Minimum-wage delivery driver, stop–”
But in the next moment the perfect burger, worth over a million dollars, had a perfect little bite in it, and the extra’s face lit up with joy at the sumptuous taste, humming happily to herself, then finally seemed to realize what she’d done, green eyes going wide to look at her coworker and CEO.
Then, with precision, she tore two pieces out of the burger and handed them each one, closing her eyes in a pleasant smile.
Evil and Neuro looked down at them, then at each other. Then they both shrugged and said simultaneously, “Ah, why not.”
Then they each took their pieces, Evil devouring hers, while Neuro sighed and delicately savored it. Then they returned their attention to the road, Evil tearing through the city at maximum speed, and Neuro, back in character, began to bemoan the financial loss.
But in reality, she knew that she’d gained back far more.