Laura Bramble [01]

    Laura Bramble trudged over to the myster. Her back ached powerfully. She inserted $1,500 into the shiny, new Pfizer myster. It was a small price to pay for the ability to keep working. She had come to love the look of the beautiful blue logo that took her pain away and woke her up again for a short while. She had about 17 hours left to work and then she could finally go home and sleep.

    She started back to work checking her wrist messenger as she shuffled along. The messenger was very limited in terms of the messages it could convey. There were two graphical windows side by side that could display only pictures and graphics. She had known how to read in her youth but there was no more need, and something in all of the pain medication she was taking seemed to be making her brain atrophy. As she gazed down at the AOL logo emblazoned in between the two picture windows she was reluctantly grateful for its simplicity.

    The first message had a picture of a sneaker in the message window and a Nike logo in the sender window. It was spam, a junk mail message from Nike. It reminded her how much her feet hurt and for a moment she thought wistfully about how good a new pair of Nike sneakers would make her feet feel. The second message was from Ford and the pictorial message reminded her that there was a new Spider model available for kids. She enjoyed the junk mail messages but she became anxious about the need to rush back to work. She flipped through 7 more junk mail messages very quickly, desiring each product as she went. She flipped the next button again and this time in the message window there was a McRonald's logo and in the sender window there was a picture of her daughter Mary's chubby little face. She smiled. After work she would take Mary to McRonald's.

    Somewhere in the deep recesses of her brain was an altruistic sense of joy that would come from pleasing her daughter. But very much at the forefront of her thoughts was the Quad-burger she was going to consume herself. She might even decide to get two if she could afford it. Something about going to McRonald's reminded her of her youth. Her father had taken her there when it was still called McDonald's and it had other characters besides Ronald McRonald. There was a purple thing and a thing with a big black hat. She tried to remember but it was so hard. It seemed like those were happier times but that didn't make any sense. The world was obviously better now.

    She stopped trying to recall because getting lost in thought like that would get her fired. She rushed through her last three junk mail messages and switched off the messenger. It had cost her $90 to check her messages; her supervisor was glowering at her menacingly; but all she could think of was that tomorrow morning after work she would sink her teeth into that burger and life would be so wonderful while she tasted it.

    Her back already hurt again as she went back to work. She lifted Mrs. McNeeley onto her side and winced as her back protested. Mrs. McNeeley shrieked at her as the rush of cold air hit her naked backside. Laura ignored her protestations and swabbed the feces from her with an even colder damp rag. She watched the time clock on the bed's digital readout hoping the time bar would move faster. She strained to maintain Mrs. McNeeley's massive girth with one arm while she swabbed and wiped with the other. The time bar finally hit full and Laura released her. Mrs. McNeeley came crashing back down onto her back with a thud. She started crying. All of the patients in the LovinCare Corp facility had their own way of protesting their treatment. Mrs. McNeeley was a crier. "You shouldn't treat me that way!" she bawled. "My son used to be the President! The President of the United States of America!"

    Laura ignored her and moved on. Mrs. McNeeley made that same declaration every time it was time for her cleaning. In some part of her brain it sounded plausible. She did feel like she remembered a president named McNeeley, but she couldn't figure out where she would remember him from. Robert J. Minton was the president. And he had been the president before the reorganization and ever since. There had been presidents back before 1WG when there were still countries, And she had lived in the country called the United States. But as nearly as she could figure there had been three Presidents of the United States: Ronald W. Reagan, George W. Bush and the other one. Why could she never remember his name? She cursed her failing memory as she began to lift and scrub the next obese mountain of flesh. Ms. Bradford squinted hard and farted loudly as Laura wiped her. She had been saving it up and wished she had another to unleash against the callous treatment of the young LovinCare worker.

    Laura couldn't understand the resentment of the large old ladies. She figured that they should be happy that their families were Relations class and they could thus afford to keep them in a LovinCare facility. Laura was obese herself and she knew that as a member of the laboring class she would simply die when she became unable to care for herself. She cursed herself for how much her mind was wandering and placing her job in jeopardy. She tried to concentrate on her work.

    As she resumed scrubbing the mounds of flesh she began to fixate on the McRonald's Quad burger she would have at some point in the future. She didn't mind this thought as it didn't distract her so much from her work. Then suddenly the name that had eluded her popped back into her brain. The other president of the United States had been Sean J. Hannigan. She tried to form a mental association between Hannigan and the Hannity Housing complex where she lived since the two names sounded similar. She didn't want to forget the names of the presidents. It was important to remember.

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