2035. Your personal hologram of President Honey Boo Boo farts by your bedside, shocking you awake. It is fifteen minutes before work, but no worries: your SmartHouse, Gertrude, is preparing breakfast. Gertrude asks how you want your eggs. You say scrambled. Gertrude does not respond, and puts a Sunny Side Up Vitamin on your plate next to your Bacon Pill. You choke both down with some Brawndo (it's got electrolytes) and punch yourself in the face to activate Google™ BrainWave™ which you ask to call up a Zuckerberg™ FaceCab™.
The FaceCab™ arrives in two seconds. You get in, and your grandmother appears on-screen to tell you she recently "Liked" Mountain Dew: Dorito Blast. Before the car drives off, your wife runs out, waving her arms hysterically. She says she needs you to "Like" her photo of your own child for a chance to win some Google™ Diapers™ with built-in SEO and analytics. She says she needs these to boost her search ranking while Gertrude changes your son. You joke about Yucca Mountain erupting (originally intended to store radioactive waste, Yucca Mountain was repurposed in 2019 after the first fifty-pound baby was born, requiring drastic changes in global diaper disposal infrastructure).
The FaceCab™ drives off, and a soft voice says: "Greetings, [name]. We have calibrated your advertisements for your attention span of 0.21138 seconds. Enjoy your ride." You would ignore the advertisements, but last time someone did that, their FaceCab™ stopped in the middle of the road, causing the single bloodiest automatic pile-up in Human history. 0.2-second advertisements flash before your eyes like subliminal messages for the hour-long drive.
You arrive at work. To combat rising unemployment from automation, President Boo Boo has mandated all citizens of the United Nations of China be paid to dig holes and bury excess McDonalds kids' meal toys. You worry about the environment, but your coworkers assure you there is a night shift paid to dig them back up again. You break your plastic digging spoon around noon and are forced to bury it and use the spoon from your lunch for the rest of the day. It is horrible.
You take a FaceCab™ back home, and your grandmother berates you for not getting a real job like quantum plasmoid engineering. You say you're sorry, sorry grandma. Of course, this is only a brain simulation of your grandmother, but your shame is real. You make a note in your Google™ BrainWave™ to take out a student loan for 5,000,000,000,000 Yuan, the price of one community college class.
You arrive home. Your neighbor Bradley asks you if you want to go bowling. You say you'd love to. You both head inside, go in your respective bedrooms, put on your Zuckerberg™ FaceTimes™, and make limp bowling motions. Bradley comes out just 20 points ahead of you. Damn. You've really gotta find some better virtual bowling shoes.
You lie back on the pillow, activating your Google™ BrainWave™, and briefly wonder how all this could have turned out different before settling in for eight hours of simulated Coca-cola™ dreams. Nighty-night.