Pirate Daddy's Lonely Hearts Call-In Show
by Jardine Libaire
November 9, 2006
T[FBI-Google Inc. Digital Transcript.
Relevance: Red Alert, Hartware Vandals;
Tracking individuals illegally removing government-mandated software
from their persons.
August 23, 2033]
[intro: Digital-Fonograph snippet of "Psalm" from A Love Supreme]
OPERATOR: [gruff, retro New Orleans accent; identity unknown] Well, well, my lions and lionesses, ladies and gents, kids and machines. Welcome to Friday Night Call-in with Pirate Dad-d-d-d-d-d-y. [speaks in a growl] We're broadcasting in Digi-crystal 8000 MgHz out of the Garage-Prod of yours truly. Coast to Coast. Africa to Ireland. Your hearth to mine, babies. Right now I'm floating over a Replant Onion-grazz Field, and I can see the Western Fire. Yeah, babies, the Western Fire don't show no signs of dying. But that ain't news, is it? [sighs]
I bet a dollar you kids get your news elsewhere, since it ain't my gig, really. But I got this bit for you. Seems we here at WHRT — and by "we," lads and lassies, I mean me, myself, and I — are being investigated by FBI-Google Inc. I don't know if you remember the caller from last week, Trinket809. [pause] Trinket, I don't know if you can hear me. But don't git scared if you can, Trinket. [pause] She called in to say she was going to dismantle her Hartware. [voice change, discomfort] Uncle Sam don't want you to do that, baby girl.
[speeds up] And I ain't backing up Big Gov. You know Pirate Daddy: I'm a buh-liever in the primitive heart, kitten. But I just can't tell you to go for it, in all good faith, Trink. I can't. [booming] I'm the man you call to talk to, babes. Call me. It's Digi-Crissy 445, through the Floating Japan lines.
[retro digi-sound-effect: telephone ringing]
Good evening, caller. How's things?
CALLER 1: [purring, female] Pirate Daddy, well, how do you do. This is Violetbush888.
OPERATOR: [laughing] Been missing you, Violet.
CALLER 1: [husky whisper] Who can blame you?
OPERATOR: What's the good word, baby?
CALLER 1: I just want to let anyone know who's north of Capital that a lonely little lady is sitting tight at the No-Tell Hotel outside the SleepyMilk Drive Thru. So —
OPERATOR: [charming but adamant] You know the rules, mama.
CALLER 1: All I wanna say is any of you boys get your Milk injection and feel lonely, knock on Prod Digi-Violet. My Hartware is tuned to Twilight Lust, and you know how that goes.
OPERATOR: Violet —
CALLER 1: Daddy, I know! I'm not charging. But that don't make me cheap. [click]
OPERATOR: That's my violet angel, making trouble on the digi-waves, like she likes to. [laughs deeply] Oh lawdy. Call me, lambs and tigers. Darlings and monsters. [retro digi-sound effect telephone ringing]
CALLER 2: [male, nasal, lisping] I want to share with your audience my recent Hart-ware upgrade and its results.
OPERATOR: You braggin' or sharin', baby? [laughs]
CALLER 2: [unamused] I'm educating. I just got the Oysterdate Swarovski Settings installed, all hundred. Including [voice constricted, as though with sexual fervor] the twenty-eight Fetish settings. I can't — I can't find time to try them all.
OPERATOR: [laughs] Well, this is getting intimate, jack, but if you're happy, we happy. I mean, about .01% of our population can afford the Oysterdate, but it's cool. Represent for us, baby.
CALLER 2: [breathlessly] You're missing rapture — [is cut off]
OPERATOR: That was one flaunty motherlover, am I right? [booming] Who we got on the lines? [digi-ring]
CALLER 3: [young male voice, Scottish accent, jovial] Daddy! I just wanted to let you know, yeh, you gave me advice when I called in last week, about the redhead, do you remember? My Hartware said no but my soul said yes?
OPERATOR: How could I forget, honey?
CALLER 3: [suspenseful] Well, guess what? [pulls away from his phone]
CALLER 4: [CALLER 3 puts a female caller on] Daddy, it's me, RedheadToGo5! We're honeymooning fools, and it's thanks to you.
OPERATOR: Awright . . . what do you say?
CALLERS 3 AND 4: [in unison] We say: WHRT is where lonely hearts get lost.
OPERATOR: Ha-ha, yeaaahhh. That's what I like. Let the young lead us, you be fearless, cats and kittens. [digi-ring] Who's callin' us from Burma, here?
CALLER 5: [static, a computer voice] Thank you very much for taking my call.
OPERATOR: What goes down in Burma, jack?
CALLER 5: It is hot. Birds sing. The flowers bloom, red and white, delicate, luscious.
OPERATOR: Cool. I dig it.
CALLER 5: I am calling because we only passed our Mandatory Hartware Act three years ago, you might know. I am curious. You in North Americorp passed it in 2017. It is only recently that you have the young people vandalizing themselves, yes?
OPERATOR: [serious] Well, what you see on the news is slightly out of proportion, friend.
CALLER 5: But it is true, no, that it is extremely dangerous to remove Hartware, dangerous like the coat-hanger procedure done in the mid 1900s? Why are the kids doing it to themselves now? It is because they don't like the Hartware?
OPERATOR: [pauses to think, sounds sad] No, jack. Not quite. The kids who were installed at birth, well, they're growing up now, and they want to know what life is like without it. Without a guard rail, you feel me? They never had no say in it, brother. That's making them act out, you dig?
CALLER 5: [hesitates] My baby daughter was born one week after Act passed. She has had the software in her since she was one hour.
OPERATOR: [matter-of-fact, stoic] You gotta talk to her about it when she gets old enough to understand, brother. Till then, let it ride. [softer] Ain't nothing you can do till then, sailor.
CALLER 5: [pause, silence, then in grave voice] Thank you for your wisdom, sir. I am grateful. Farewell.
OPERATOR: [to his listeners] You can't rush it, babies. That's what Pirate says. Who loves me? Who needs me right now? [digi-ring]
CALLER 7: [elderly woman, pinched voice, high-pitched] Is this the Pirate?
OPERATOR: Yes, ma'am, and how we can help your heart tonight?
CALLER 7: [spitting] I don't need your god-damned filthy hands on my heart, mister.
OPERATOR: Well, don't hold back, mother.
CALLER 7: I'm calling about these vandals, heh? These self-entitled . . . do they know what it was like before Hartware? Before Pheromone Compatibility Programs, heh? Before Dream Tracker? [screeching now] Heh? Before Hart Fraud Alert? [whispering, spitting] We were in the wilderness. We didn't even know for chrissakes what we thought, what we wanted. We were dizzy. We were lost. These kids, they have no idea what real heartbreak is. It's no tea party.
OPERATOR: I hear you, ma —
CALLER 7: They think it's the real thing, "the pure thing" they say. [bitter laugh] Yeah, well my grandmother was a girl in the Depression. She didn't glamorize collecting jelly jars to me, ya hear? She didn't make like begging pennies was dandy fun. That's what I'm saying. I'm grateful for my Hartware. These kids get it free, now, from the government, and they complain? Hell, I worked my hands to the bone to afford my first Hartware. These teenagers now, they make me sick. And you're a shady one. You give 'em this i-dear it's okay to go backwards.
OPERATOR: Whoa!? [trying to sound amused] Grandma, you sound like you accusin' me here.
CALLER 7: Calling it like I see it, fella. [click]
OPERATOR: [sad laughter] Oh lawdy. [slow, low voice] Caged-up hearts. Caged up. [pensive now] My Prod is coasting near the Fire, on the Capital side now, and I'm looking down at a Replant Quince-Banana Orchard. Them trees seem to be growing finally. We gonna be okay, boys and girlies. [pause] Let's take one more call, lovers, and then we'll put on some sad, sweet song or something, clear our pretty heads. [digi-ring] What have we got on the line for Daddy?
CALLER 8: [very small, young voice. clear as a bell, but far away] Hello? [swirling, rushing noise]
OPERATOR: I can barely hear you, little sister. [waits] You there? Maybe we should —
CALLER 8: This is Trinket809 . . . I . . . [hushing, incomplete sounds] . . . did . . . interface.
OPERATOR: [raw, urgent] Trinket809, what'd you do? Did you dismantle it? [soothing but desperate] Trinket, is you there?
CALLER 8: [tiny voice getting tinier] I took myself apart, Daddy.
OPERATOR: [emotional] Trinket, Trinket, where are you?
CALLER 8: I'm here.
OPERATOR: Where's here, baby girl? [waiting] Do you need help?
CALLER 8: [a loud ratcheting, and then shushing]
OPERATOR: [quietly] Trinket, Christ, are you okay?
CALLER 8: I'm alive. [louder whoosh, clicks, then the click of the phone]
OPERATOR: [speechless for a moment] I, uh. [voice strange] I'm going to throw a digi-record on the Fonograph here. I'm going to, uh, yeah. I'm going to play this old Chet Baker. Let's Get Lost. It's going to sound scratchy, babies. [sniffs, pauses] But you can hear it pretty true. This one goes out to Trinket809. This is for you, little sister.
[music] n°
©2006 Jardine Libaire and hooksexup.com