**Ian**
Sporting a polo shirt and jeans, Ian strolled into Toronto's Wattpad Headquarters grinning at his phone. "I just took 1 minute and 37 seconds off my commute this morning." Flashing the phone's GPS app at his team--a 3-man engineering group known as the Goonies--he added, "Pretty cool, eh?"
Mouth looked up from his computer and pulled the headphones off his ears. "What did you say?"
"I discovered a new route to work. Took a minute and a half off my driving time."
Dressed in a Barenaked Ladies concert t-shirt, Sloth slapped his belly as though playing bongo drums. "If you parked where I park, you'd shave 3 minutes off your commute, bro."
Ian glanced towards Sloth. His stare followed by an under the radar eyeroll. "You park in 2-hour guest parking."
Sloth shook his head. "Data, Data, Data. You need to live on the edge a bit. Break a few rules, man."
"Guests only," Ian reiterated under his breath as he threw a backpack over his chair. "Two hours--maximum."
Sloth and Mouth glanced at each other and chuckled, prompting Mouth to start rapping a line from a Weird Al Yankovic song. "Don't be vain and don't be whiny. Or else, my brother, I might have to get medieval on your heinie."
Ian tried to hold back a smirk but failed. "What are we working on today?"
"We're writing code to make it easier for chicks to find stories about bad boys with six packs and billionaire CEOs that want to have sex with their stepdaughters." Wadding up a piece of paper scribbled with lines and numbers, Sloth threw it towards a garbage can and missed. "I call foul!"
"No, really." Ian sat in his chair and adjusted the Boba Fett figurine next to his monitor.
"I sent you the deets," Mouth replied. "Should be in your inbox."
Ian turned on his computer and waited for his Mork & Mindy screensaver to load. As Robin Williams' face appeared on the screen, he adjusted his black-rimmed glasses and logged into his email account to read the details for their latest assignment. When he finished reading, he slouched back in his chair and swiveled to face his teammates. "We're gonna change the world, aren't we?"
Sloth lobbed another crumpled piece of paper towards the garbage, missing a second time. "Dude, let's not get too dramatic."
"It's possible, though," Ian insisted. "We could be part of a movement that positively changes our culture--one story at a time."
Head tilted to the side, Sloth stared at Ian with a curled lip and squinted eye. "You mean with story titles like The Werewolf Made Me Cream My Panties So Now I'm A Volunteer At A Children's Hospital?"
"I'm being serious," Ian countered. "If we get the calculations right, we could positively influence our society and world--or even reality itself. Ask our neighbors south of the border how technology affects our reality--on things like elections, for example."
Sloth rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "I want to respond to you, Data--but the only thing coming to mind is grab 'em by the pussy."
"That's not what I meant."
"Ignore his pessimistic bucket of bullshit, my young padawan." Mouth stood up and positioned himself next to Ian, placing a palm on Ian's shoulder. He motioned towards Sloth with his hand and proceeded to quote an altered battle cry from the movie--Goonies:
"Don't you realize? The next time you see sky, it'll be over another town. The next time you write code, it could be for some higher purpose. Our bosses, they want the best of stuff for us--by thinking up shit for us to do. But right now, they got to do what's right for them. Because it's their time. Their time! Up there!" Mouth motioned in the direction where Wattpad's leaders were located. Patting Ian on the back with his palm, he continued. "Down here, it's our time. It's our time down here. But that's all over the second we ride up--Sloth's bucket of pessimism."
Sloth popped his head out from behind his monitor. "Oh, I'm sorry. Were you saying something? I couldn't take my eyes off the latest chapter of The Vampire Who Shits Himself When He Smells Menstruation Blood." Ian exhaled a frustrated sigh and turned to face his computer.
Sloth crumpled up another piece of paper and threw it at Ian. This time Sloth scored a solid hit as the paper bounced off Ian's head. "C'mon, man. I'm all for changing the world. You know I am. It would help me get laid."
"Not while wearing a Barenaked Ladies shirt," Ian mumbled as he typed without turning to face Sloth. Mouth burst into a fit of laughter.
"What are you talking about?" Sloth rubbed his shirt. "B-N-L rocks! Have you seen them live--in concert? What?" He held a hand up to his ear. "Was that a no? Oh--so you don't even. You don't even know what you're talking about." Turning his attention back to his computer, Sloth whispered, "Assholes."
"I'd remove the Nickelback shirt from the rotation as well," Mouth said, struggling to hold back a man-giggle.
Sloth pressed his lips together. His complexion went from pale to bright red. The room fell uncomfortably silent for a few moments.
"No comeback," Ian whispered, just loud enough so the other two could hear him. "He must've gotten to the part in the story where the vampire shits himself."
Taking a deep breath, Sloth spoke with a cool and calm tone. "I won't dignify your lack of musical taste with a response."
Ian whispered so only he and Mouth could hear. "Three. Two. One."
"Nice socks and sandals, Mouth," Sloth said, sounding as though he were giving a genuine compliment. "That'll ensure your mom remains your plus one for the rest of your life."
"Comfort is more important to me than style," Mouth replied.
"Or sex."
Mouth pulled a sandal off his foot and held it up. "The inner soul of this sandal is made with the latest technology in memory foam comfort. The socks--the thickness of my socks grants me the freedom to regulate what temperature I want my feet at." Mouth finished his defense of socks and sandals with a Braveheart quote. "They may take away our lives, but they'll never take our freedom!"
"Stop," Ian semi-yelled, swiveling around to face his coworkers. "We need to focus on more important things than t-shirts and sandals."
"That's what I was trying to say before you bashed the awesome nakedness of the bare ladies."
"Really?" Ian questioned without any hope of receiving a serious answer.
Sloth steepled his fingers in front of his face. "As I was saying, if we figure out how to change the world--one story at a time--let's face it--I'm getting seriously laid." Waving his hands in a downward motion to calm Ian's disgust, Sloth continued. "Let me finish, Pollyanna. I'm trying to agree with you here."
"Oh really?" Ian crossed his arms, ready to be on the defensive.
"Really?" Mouth appeared legit confused.
"I'm being serious," Sloth insisted. "Reality--it used to be a physical thing. Now it's becoming a virtual thing." Pointing to the computer, he added, "These bad boys, six pack abs, billionaire CEOs and vampires we read about--they're physical world reality. And the physical world is slowly disappearing. Reality is becoming virtual. If you've ever tried online dating, you'll know what I'm talking about."
Mouth rocked a flat palm from side to side. "I'm not sure if vampires technically qualify as physical world reality."
Sloth crumpled another piece of paper and threw it at Mouth. "Minor details!"
"So you saying as the world becomes more virtual--." Ian paused for a beat to collect his thoughts. "Those who write the code control our reality."
Sloth pointed a finger in Ian's direction. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
"It sort of makes sense," Mouth admitted. "We're drawn to that which makes us feel more powerful and important. If Sloth could control reality, he'd probably get laid--FINALLY."
Holding out his hand with limbs spread wide, Sloth tapped a finger for each example he gave. "What's considered sexy? What's considered worthy of news and fame? What's considered powerful? Let me tell you. As long as people are glued to and become dependent on their technology--as long as reality manifests itself more virtually than physically--then it's the man behind the technology who has the power to play God."
"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain," Mouth shouted, throwing a fist into the air.
"Man behind the technology," Ian began. "There's a lot of responsibility that comes with that."
Not paying attention to Ian's thoughts, Mouth asked, "Do you think we could make baby soft computer hands sexier than six packs?"
"Dude," Sloth replied. "We could make socks and sandals sexier than a handsome, shirtless, bad boy, billionaire sporting a six pack as he sets out on a mission to save puppies from an evil Underlord--all while rocking some Plain Jane's world with unconditional love and commitment for her."
Ian turned and stared at his computer screen. We could do this, he thought to himself. We could empower the world with words and stories. Open people's hearts and minds. Positively change how we think about things like diversity. But how?
[Note: The Werewolf Made Me Cream My Panties So Now I'm A Volunteer At A Children's Hospital and The Vampire Who Shits Himself When He Smells Menstruation Blood were titles original to this story and did NOT exist on Wattpad prior to July 2018.]