Strange Infomercial

*TELEVISION BLIP*

The salesman walks slow, stiff with borrowed confidence and an odd-colored suit.

"What are you in the market for?"

The client sways in his chair. "Something...better."

"Of course. In what way?"

"I want something more meaningful."

The salesman smiles gently. "That isn't a product category I'm afraid."

The client frowns. "I thought this place specialized in—"

"We specialize in capacity," the salesman says. "Not comfort."

Pause.

The client glances at the digital table display in front of him. "These all look...difficult."

"Yes."

"That one is listed as 'severe relationship loss.'"

"Uh-huh."

"And this one—'life-long caregiving, terminal outcome."

"Yep."

The client looks up. "Do you have anything...happy?"

The salesman leans forward. "We do, they're just very cheap." He waits to see how it lands.

"I don't understand," the client says.

The salesman taps the table. A new category appears.

DATA Yield: Low

"Happy lives are thin," he explains. "They close loops. They generate very little."

"Very little what?"

"Weight," the salesman says. "Cognitive mass. Genetic upgrades. The ability to hold contradictions without collapsing."

The client laughs nervously. "So you're telling me I need to suffer to—what—level up?"

The salesman considers. "That's a crude metaphor."

"But not wrong."

The client scrolls. Stops. "This one," he says. "It's...ordinary. Marriage. Child. Early death."

"Yes," the salesman says. "Very popular."

"What's the yield?"

He taps a sub-menu "This particular one—high," he says. "Because it was never finished."

"It's used?"

"It's refurbished. New acquaintances, updated timeline."

"Why was it abandoned?"

"They couldn't tolerate the ambiguity," the salesman says. "Some wanted a stronger dose of DATA."

The client looks unsettled. "So I'd be...continuing someone else's pain."

The salesman's smile doesn't change. "You'd be extracting its value."

"What happens when I finish?"

The salesman tilts his head."Finish what?"

"The life."

"You don't—you outgrow it."

"And then?"

"With enough yield, you could eventually afford something custom."

The client's interest peaks. "Custom how?"

"Physics, if you like. Encounters, architecture, people, emotional content."

"That sounds...incredible."

The salesman nods. "It is. Very few can afford it."

"How do I afford it?"

"By becoming someone who can understand what it costs."

The client stares at the screen. At the life.

Previous Occupant: Opted Out

"What happened to them?" the client asks.

The salesman shrugs. "They chose happiness."

The client laughs mechanically. "And that was a mistake?"

The salesman's voice is kind, a touch on the shoulder.

"Happiness doesn't teach you how to build worlds."

Long pause.

The client finally taps the screen.

"I'll take it."

The salesman nods once.

"Good choice," he says. "You'll come back heavier."