JoJo2010 takes a sip of his POWER energy drink and adjusts his headphones. He doesn’t like this pair. They pinch the top of his ears.
“Chat!” he barks, “Are we ready for this?”
The chat in front of him is alive with emojis and in-jokes.
“I’m on two hours of sleep. I’m sick. But I’ve got my POWER energy drink. I’ve got my ZOOM nicotine pouch. And, chat, today is going to be CRAZY. We’re going to react to a PUBLIC EXECUTION.”
He taps a key and a video appears in front of him. A squad of impassive riflemen are standing in a line. The camera pans across them.
“Chat, what a job. What a JOB! Imagine going home to your wife and your kids. ‘How was your day, honey?’ ‘Oh, not bad, I just shot someone in the FACE.’”
JoJo2010 can feel his throat getting scratchy. He takes another sip of POWER. It tastes like battery acid. Next time, he tells himself, he should fill the can with something else.
A man is led out and into a chamber. Police officers start strapping him into a chair. JoJo2010 watches the stress on their faces as the buckles resist their best efforts.
“Chat, that’s how I feel when I start a long stream. I’m kidding, chat! Best job in the world, chat. Let’s go!”
He pops another ZOOM pouch into his mouth.
“What did he do, chat? What did he do? Oh my God! He killed two students at a SCHOOL? That’s CRAZY, chat? Why would he DO that, chat? Well, karma’s a BITCH!”
The man has a hood over his face. He looks thin and pathetic — like a bag of trash left on the sidewalk. JOJO2010 thinks he can see him trembling.
“This is CRAZY, chat! Are they really going to shoot him? Are we really going to watch it? Of COURSE we are, chat. That’s what we DO!”
A target is placed over the man’s heart. The camera pans across a glass barrier, to one side of the proceedings, where pinched faces are huddled together.
“Damn, I’m jealous chat. They have the best view in the house.”
An order is barked. The squad of riflemen level their guns. Behind his hood, the condemned man stiffens, as if bracing himself for the impact of the bullets.
“Oh my God, chat …”
“Fire!”
The guns bark. The man’s body jolts, as if electricity has slammed through his body. His chest heaves — first violently and then more feebly. Blood seeps through his shirt and forms a patch no bigger than his heart.
“Oh my GOD, chat! Oh my GOD! That man is dead. He LITERALLY died. They shot him. Oh dear Lord …”
The camera pans to the glass barrier, where people are starting to leave with the vague awkwardness of a crowd at the end of fireworks display, when it isn’t absolutely clear if it has finished.
“Oh my God, chat …”
JoJo2010 leans back in his chair and then forwards again.
“That was SOMETHING, chat. I don’t know what it was. I know that people can have different opinions. It’s a free country. But that was SOMETHING.”
He adjusts his headphones again to stop them pinching the top of his ears.
“I have to take a piss, chat, but then we’ll be back. What are we going to watch next, chat? Did I see the girl with the fine ass at the Red Sox game? I did not, chat. But can we watch that here? Will it get us demonetised?”