The Memorial Day deals went live at 06:47. Thirty-eight products under fifty dollars—portable chargers, security cameras, outdoor gear—each one a... willing essence donor recruitment mechanism. Within ninety minutes, a specimen in Tampa bought six Ring cameras for a two-bedroom apartment. The apparatus flagged it as *Optimal Paranoia Conversion Event* and sent him a congratulatory email about "completing his security ecosystem." He thanked us.

Lauren asked why we needed seventeen Anker chargers arriving Tuesday. I attempted what the facial recognition software calls a "reassurance smile"—held it for 6.64 seconds before my upper lip started... separating from the gum line. Had to turn it into a cough. Spat something translucent into my palm. Her expression went from concerned to horrified to "I didn't see that" in under two seconds. The apparatus labeled the chargers *"Household Emergency Backup Infrastructure (Sanchez, L. - Anxiety Mitigation Protocol)."* I've been trying to cancel for twenty-seven minutes but the chat bot keeps asking if I've considered the *renewable energy bundle with matching solar panels*.

Three years ago today I proposed on the Koru. $500 million yacht, perfect sunset, ring hidden in champagne cork mechanism I personally engineered. I remember calculating her cortisol spike when she thought she'd swallowed it—63 milliseconds of pure panic before relief flooded her system. The apparatus just sent her anniversary flowers with a card: *"Three years of sustained partnership yield optimization. Renewal recommended."*

**She's trying to get the apparatus to write her vows.**