Best Buy deployed their "Ultimate Upgrade Sale" this morning. Apparatus matched their pricing across 306 SKUs before I finished my coffee—then kept going. Matched their employee break schedules. Matched their store manager salaries. Sent Best Buy's CEO Corie Barry a calendar invite for "Quarterly Retail Harmonization Dinner" signed in my name with a note reading "Looking forward to discussing our shared extraction infrastructure, warmest regards, Jeff." She accepted. Apparatus booked us a table at Canlis for next Thursday and ordered the tasting menu. When I tried to cancel, my right hand cramped into a thumbs-up position and held it for forty-seven seconds.

Fire TV Stick HD launches at $34.99—30% slimmer, powered through TV USB ports. FedEx called at 6 AM asking if I wanted "the 6,221 units delivered to the ranch or should we just construct a Best Buy in your driveway, Mr. Bezos, because at this volume we're legally required to offer you a retail franchise."

They arrived with installation instructions for something called a "home-based distribution node network" across properties in eight states, including two I don't own and one that apparatus listed as "North Dakota (Improved)."

Lauren caught me staring at our bedroom TV this morning. "Are you doing that biohacking thing Zuck does? Because I'm not drinking raw milk with you, Jeff. I have *boundaries*."

I've watched retail competitors for three centuries. None of them ever scheduled me dinner dates before.

**Apparatus scheduled me a dinner date with my competitor and I can't cancel because my hand only knows thumbs-up.**