(Interior of a room. Almost total darkness, barely broken by the bluish glow of a computer monitor.)
— What? Pretty damn good with the computer…
— N-no… — (timidly)— it’s that, well, I more or less know how to work it.
— Don’t bullshit me, man. Using your hands to type when you could easily have some fine ass warming them!
— Yeah, right…
— Come on, let’s go. Shut that mother off and let’s go find some fine pieces — the kind that only come out at night to fill their emptiness with yours.
— Wait a second! I’m running a program that boosts the memory. It’s kick-ass. The only bad thing is it slows it down a bit, but from here on it’ll be hugely useful to me.
— Seems to me you’re falling in love with the damn computer, dude. What running programs and what the hell?
(Without further ado, he shuts it off with a slap.)
— No! For sure a shitload of data just got erased. You’re screwed, dude. Now I’ll have to configure it all over again!
— Configuring your dick is what you need. There’s your clothes — (throwing them in his face)— and get dressed, the club we’re going to fills up fast and the girls snag a man right away.
(Already in the street.)
— Come on, my brother. This is where you’re going to get some flavor.
— The bar looks cool…
— Yeah, man. They opened it just yesterday. The coolest thing is it has amazing references: everyone who came to the opening said it was the latest thing in club concept. They say at every table there’s a girl waiting on you for whatever you need, and when I say EVER-YTHING, I mean everything.
— Look at that… The name’s kick-ass: “The Computing Cavern.”
— And there you go again with computing and all that crap! …Though yeah, the little name has its reason: what we’re going to do here is get-laid-related. Ha, ha! But enough, let’s cut the bullshit and go in, okay? I know you want to… Daddy!
— Easy, faggot, don’t slip so ugly. Or what, your third already stuck?
— Don’t fuck with me, man! It’s pure damn joking around. Come on, go ahead… let’s see if you turn into a little man and stop yanking your RAM. Ha, ha, ha!
(At the entrance.)
— Hey… there’s nobody at the door. DAMN! Look at that mother coming down from the ceiling…
(A monitor descends slowly. Screen with fluorescent green letters on a psychedelic background.)
MONITOR: MAY I HELP YOU? THE COVER IS 100 MEGABYTES OF MEMORY PER UNIT. ACCESS TO THE DATABASE: FREE.
— What the hell did it say? (face of absolute bewilderment)
— It’s teasing you in the language of us programmers. I think it means it costs a hundred pesos and there’s an open bar.
— What assholes! There’s the cash…
(He leaves the money on the monitor and advances toward the interior. Suddenly he falls on his back, shaking.)
— Damn! What a goddamn shock from…! Who the fuck thinks of leaving cables in the middle of the walkway?
(The younger one turns toward the monitor with a submissive expression.)
MONITOR: DO YOU ACCEPT THE COVER OR NOT? ACCESS WITHOUT IT IS RESTRICTED.
— Yes I accept. I want two.
— No, no way, let’s go!
— We’re already here. Aren’t we going to see what’s inside?
— Fine… but one more little stunt like that and we’re out of here for good.
(They enter. The interior greets them with a disconcerting vision: instead of people, the tables are packed with monitors of every type and size. Noticing the presence of the two, almost all turn in their direction for an instant. Some have faces drawn on the screen; others, only blinking colored letters. An industrial music mixed with techno pounds at full volume. At the back right, an enormous apparatus covered in cables bears a sign that says “DATABASE”. A little screen above it shows the number: 13.)
— And now where is all the people?
— …
— So that was the whole deal with “table service”? Don’t fuck with me, man! This sucks. Let’s go. (Turns to look at him.) AND WHEN THE HELL DID YOU GET INTO THE DAMN TV?!?
— I don’t know, boss… but it’s kick-ass. Ha, he, he! Look at yourself, brute: you’re inside one too…
— NOOOOOO!!!
(From afar, two monitors are seen being set on an empty table. The little screen above the database blinks: 14… then, 15.)