Alex opened her fridge, scanning from top to bottom. Nothing. She closed the fridge and sighed. The brunette scoured her apartment for any remaining food. She opened sleek metal cabinets, pulled out all the kitchen drawers, ransacked her closet, and came up empty handed. Engrossed in crafting the perfect sculpture, she had completely forgotten about food. Her clay-streaked disheveled hair and clay covered tank top and blue jeans were a testament to her dedication.
Alex stood in the middle of her New York City apartment, surrounded by unfinished sculptures, stacks of unsold paintings, and art supplies that littered every counter. Each piece of art reminded her of her failure. It wasn’t just about creating art anymore; it was about winning New York’s world-famous art exhibition next month. Competing with the best artists in the country, her art had to be perfect.
Exhausted, Alex fell on her couch. She raised her remote to watch tv, but an error screen appeared – her subscriptions had expired. She sighed again. Pulling out a large steel tube, she pointed the open end at the ceiling, flipped a switch, and smiled as a red laser beam appeared. She played with the laser for a while, letting ideas for art projects dance in her mind, discarding each as quickly as it manifested. Punishment for failing to be the divine idea necessary to win the competition.
Alex continued to point the laser around the apartment until she ran it over a stack of mail on the coffee table. Her curiosity piqued, she stowed the laser and grabbed the mail. Shuffling through the stack, each piece of mail grew more depressing than the last. It was one bill after another, after another, culminating with a giant red letter that read “Rent Due” in aggressive bold font. She tossed the pile back on the coffee table, but then noticed something peculiar from the corner of her eye. A yellow paper became visible from underneath the red letter.
Reaching for the yellow paper, Alex held it up to her face. It was an advertisement that read “Emostraction. Get paid top dollar for donating your emotions.” She had heard about this before. Rogue Chinese scientists discovered how to extract and transfer emotion from one person to another. After a decade of regulatory battles, it was finally legalized in the USA a few years ago. Extracted joy quickly became the most popular drug on the market, and the rich were willing to pay top dollar. One extraction could be divided into thousands of units, each providing a week of pure ecstasy with zero side effects. The downside was that the extraction for the patient was total and permanent, hence the high price. She looked around her apartment. She was out of supplies, out of time, and the pain in her stomach reminded her she was out of food.
Alex stared at the ceiling, wondering, “Should I permanently trade my joy for money? It’s not like I’m using it anyways, and it is a million dollars.” Her stomach rumbled with hunger pains once more, “Miserable and poor or miserable with a million dollars? Would things really be any different? Yeah, it’s permanent, but it’s a lot of money” She looked around her messy apartment and thought “And things couldn’t get any worse.” She glanced at the wall clock; it was still early in the evening. She would have plenty of time to reach the clinic if she left now. With nothing left to lose, she made her choice. Alex jumped off her couch, put on her jacket, and headed out to the Emostraction clinic.
Alex arrived outside the clinic; her jacket adorned with glowing blue bars woven into the fabric. She looked up from across the street and was shocked to see the skyscraper was as yellow as their advertisements. “Eww, super tacky.” she thought. She crossed the street and entered the building. Inside were sterile white walls, floors, and ceilings. In the center was a woman sitting behind thick glass and next to her, were two large steel double doors. Alex approached the glass “Hi… I’m here for the extraction”. She blushed and recoiled “Ehhh …sorry. That’ came out weird”. The woman behind the glass, a larger lady with blonde curly hair, smiled at Alex and replied with a thick Texan accent, “Oh honey, don’t worry about it. It’s ok to be nervous. You’re doing just fine. Just fill this out, take a seat and we will be with you soon.” Alex thanked her, filled out the paperwork, and sat quietly for about an hour.
The double doors swung open and a nurse wearing purple scrubs emerged, calling Alex’s name. Alex raised her hand and handed the nurse the paperwork. After a quick review, the nurse used her key card to reopen the double doors. They walked inside and arrived at an elevator. The nurse swiped her key card, the doors opened, and they entered. She swiped her card again and pressed the number 7. As they waited inside the elevator, Alex looked at the nurse and smiled, “Do you need to swipe the key card to flush too?” The nurse was not amused.
A bell rang and the elevator doors opened. A sign pointed right, indicating “Emostractor this way,” but Alex noticed a poster on the left with a cat dangling from a rope and the tagline ‘Hang in there.’ The nurse turned left, confusing Alex. She glanced back at the sign but followed the nurse down the hall. At another desk, a man in blue scrubs was eating donuts. The nurse handed him the paperwork; he flipped through the pages, nodded, and waved a donut at them in approval. They approached a large door labeled “Emostraction Room 2.” The nurse swiped her key card, and the door unlocked. This was it. Alex took a deep breath and followed the nurse.
Inside the room was a large lounge chair to the left, a black box machine in the middle, and a desk with a computer on the right. The nurse had Alex sit in the chair. “The doctor will be with you shortly,” she said before leaving. After a 15-minute wait, the doctor arrived and introduced himself. He handed Alex another clipboard, asking for her signature one last time. She signed it and handed it back. The doctor held up the signed document to a camera in the corner of the ceiling. After putting down the clipboard, he clicked the mouse to start the program. He walked over to Alex and placed a helmet on her head, leaving her face visible.
The doctor sat in his chair and smiled at Alex. “Now don’t you worry. I’ve literally done this a thousand times. It’ll happen so fast you won’t even believe it.”
Alex readjusted the helmet on her head. “Um… OK. I do have a question, if that’s ok.”
The doctor smiled. “Sure, what is it?”
Alex looked down. “Is this really permanent?”
The doctor nodded. “Technically, no. It is possible to reverse it within 24 hours, so long as you have both the patient and their extracted joy.”
“And after the 24 hours?”
“Permanent. Any more questions?”
Alex shifted in her chair. “No. I guess not.”
“Good. Are you ready to move forward?”
Alex’s heart sank, but she recomposed herself and strengthened her resolve. Her fists clenched; she would do anything to win that contest. She looked back at the doctor. “Yes, let’s do it.”
The doctor nodded and turned back to the screen.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the monitor, he spoke over his shoulder, “This will be a simple three-step process. The machine does all the work. First, we place the helmet on your head and turn on the program, which we just did. Now we let the helmet synchronize with your brainwaves.”
An audible ding came from the black box machine. The doctor smiled and rolled his chair to the machine. “Which is also done. Now you see this giant green knob? We slowly crank it to 10.” He carefully turned the knob from zero to 10, and a humming sound emerged from the black box and increased in volume as he turned it. “How are you feeling, Alex?”
Alex looked confused. “I literally don’t feel anything.”
The doctor smiled. “Good. Now the final step: there are two buttons here for me to choose from. A red one for extract or a blue one for injection. I am about to press the red one in 5, 4, 3…”
The doctor slapped the red button, and the humming stopped.
Alex looked around the office. “Was that it?”
The doctor smiled. “Yup, I told you it was fast. All done. Now look.” He pointed to the machine behind her. A cabinet had opened, revealing a giant steel tube encased with glass about a foot tall and six inches across. Inside the tube was a glowing green orb. Alex looked at it and felt… nothing.
The doctor removed the helmet from Alex and escorted her to the front desk outside the room. He handed the nurse the paperwork. After a moment, the nurse turned to Alex and smiled. “Ok, that should about do it. Please check your bank account and verify the funds have been deposited.”
Alex pulled out her phone and opened her bank app. There it was: “Checking Account: $1,000,004.53.” Alex was rich, yet felt nothing, which was concerning. “That’s odd,” she thought. She refocused and looked up at the nurse. “Yes… it’s uh… it’s all there. Thank you.” She signed the release form and headed outside.
Alex wondered what to do next as she walked on the sidewalk. Her stomach rumbled, making her choice easy. She arrived at her favorite restaurant, sat in her usual booth, and ordered her favorite dish. This time, the relaxing music, beautiful wall art, and smell of various cuisines had no effect on her. All she felt was hunger. When her food arrived, she took a bite. She could taste it, understand its flavors, but derived no pleasure. It was like eating cardboard. She forced herself to finish the meal, like a child reluctantly cleaning their room. “A small price to pay to win the contest,” she thought.
Disappointed, Alex left the restaurant and joined a crowd waiting to cross the street. Beside her was a woman with a laughing baby, full of zest and life. Alex imagined what it would be like to have a baby like that—a thought that once gave her warmth and comfort. Yet this time, she felt nothing. The baby, a crowd pleaser, had no effect on her. Dread rose within Alex’s heart, and confusion clouded her mind. The baby looked at Alex and smiled, but her face remained stoic. Knowing this was wrong, she forced a smile. Her muscles contorted into an unnatural mimicry of a smile, full of horror and malice. The baby’s eyes widened, tears welled up, and she cried. The mother, oblivious, swung the baby around to comfort her, just out of Alex’s view. Alex’s heart sank. Had she really made a baby cry from just a smile? The light changed, and the crowd moved. Alex continued forward, her regret growing ever more present.
With her newfound wealth, Alex was ready to start working on her magnum opus, the great work that would launch her into fame. She made a quick stop at the local art shop next to her apartment. A bell chimed as she entered, and Hershel, the old man who owned the shop, welcomed her.
“Alex! How are you, my dear?”
Alex remained stoic. “Fine. Just here to get more art supplies.”
Hershel shrugged. “I’m sorry, but you know I can’t loan out any more supplies. Your tab is too high.”
Alex threw her card on the table. “It’s fine. Charge me for what I owe and then ring me up for the works.”
Hershel lit up, his smile reaching from ear to ear. “Fantastic.” He ran her card, gathered her supplies, and handed her the bag. “Are you okay, my dear? You seem upset.”
Alex shrugged, feeling confused and embarrassed. “I’m okay.” Hershel continued, “Uh huh, I know that face. My daughters had it once too. Boy trouble!” Alex didn’t smile. “No. Really, everything is fine.”
Hershel raised an eyebrow and threw up his hands. “Okay, you don’t want to talk about it. It’s fine. Take this candy as a gift. It will help you feel better.”
Alex thanked him and walked outside. “Even Hershel noticed something was wrong,” she thought. She shrugged it off and headed home. She had a competition to win.
Alex arrived home and set down her supplies. She approached her unfinished sculpture, broke open the new tools, placed them carefully on the table, and sat before her work. She took a long, deep breath and put her hands on the clay and began molding the sculpture. “What was that shape? That’s not how it’s done,” she thought. No worries, a simple mistake. She took another deep breath, added another lump of clay, and tried again. Disgusting. She tried again. Horrid. Again and again, she worked on the clay, trying to sculpt the statue. Not only was she unable to sculpt, but each iteration became uglier than the last.
A realization flashed across Alex’s mind. Wide-eyed, she gasped as the truth hit her like a truck. “Oh no. What if?” She looked at her paintings, sculptures, and pottery; each line, shape, and curve admonished her for what she had done. She was convicted by her creations. Passion fueled her creativity; creativity stemmed from the love of art, which all came from joy. She traded it all away for money like a common street whore. She stood and recoiled. “No. No. NO!” She screamed in horror. Her anguish and sorrow resonated throughout her tiny apartment. The sorrow faded, and she was subsumed by a firestorm of anger and confusion. She threw her sculpture against the wall and watched it explode. She raised paintings above her head and smashed them against the counters. Then she grabbed her supplies, broke them in half, and threw them against the wall.
Exhausted, Alex fell back against the wall and cried, experiencing misery on a level she had never known. In a moment of weakness, everything was lost. She leaned forward and tried to stand, but her foot slid on the trash from her tantrum. She grabbed a sheet of paper from underneath her shoe and was about to toss it aside when she realized it was the yellow ad. An idea manifested. “I’ll get a refund.” Seeing the clock and realizing she had only an hour left, she grabbed her belongings and sprinted out the door.
Alex arrived back at Emostraction and burst through the front doors. Her stoic countenance masked the rage underneath. She walked up to the glass and knocked. “Hi, I made a mistake. I want to refund my money and reverse this, please.”
The large lady smiled and reached into her drawer. “I’m sorry, honey, but that’s not possible.” She pulled out a stack of papers, flipped through them, pulled out a stapled sheet, and slammed it against the thick glass. “Is this your signature?”
“Yes.”
“That means your joy belongs to us now. You signed twice, and the contract is binding. No refunds. Thank you.”
Alex became furious and banged her fist against the glass, “No refunds? No refunds!? Give me back my joy, you bitch!”
“I’m sorry, we can’t. If you want, we can give you a coupon for 15% off financing of your next purchase.”
Alex screamed and banged her fist against the glass again. The woman wagged her finger at Alex. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Alex ran to the other side of the room, grabbed a waiting chair, and sprinted back to the glass, heaving the chair with all her might. The chair bounced off the glass causing a small chip.
The lady behind the glass picked up the phone. “Hey John… yeah, we got another one. Get out here now!”
Alex picked up the chair and continued hitting the glass until the double doors opened. Two large men in paramilitary-style uniforms headed toward Alex. She threw the chair at them and dashed out the front doors. She ran around the building and stopped around the corner, panting and gasping for air, with tears streaming down her face. Was it over? Was this her life now? Passersby stared at this emotional mess. Embarrassed, she wiped her tears and walked into an alleyway to escape the leering eyes.
Sobbing, she walked further into the dark alleyway. As she wiped her tears, the wall of the yellow building disappeared and revealed its docking area. She turned and saw two men exiting a van. Alex jumped back behind the wall, crouched, and peaked around the corner to observe. The two men walked to the double doors, swiped their key card, and entered the building. A few moments later, they returned, pushing a large cart covered with a white canvas tarp. They approached the back of the van, opened its doors, and lifted the tarp, revealing rows and rows of extracted joy.
Alex’s mind raced. “Is this my chance? If I run over there and steal it, how will I know which one is mine? What if I go to jail? How do I fight off two big men?” The men were halfway through counting the tubes. She had to decide or risk losing her joy forever. Alex put her hands in her pocket, felt something familiar, and had an idea.
The two men were reading the labels off the tubes, the skinny one read off a list, while the obese one confirmed the numbers on the tube. The obese man counted the tubes and said “8376, yup it’s right-”, then a hand covered his mouth, and he leaned back, his stomach pushed forward by something unseen, “Don’t move unless you want to get shot.”
The obese man raised his arms in compliance. The skinny man reached for his radio. Alex peaked her head around her prisoner. “If you call for help your friend dies.”
The obese man, now her prisoner shook his head, his muffled “no’s” conveying a sense of panic. The skinny man moved his hand from the radio. “What do you want?”
Alex looked at the tubes. The skinny man groaned, “Oh you’re a fucking junkie? Is that it? Pathetic.”
Alex shook her head “No. I just want my joy back. I don’t give a shit about the others. I made a huge fucking mistake, and I am trying to fix it. I’m going to give back all the money. But I will take my joy back, with or without you.”
The skinny man stood silent, then Alex said “I don’t want to hurt any of you. But this is going to happen one way or another. You got 10 seconds”
The skinny man looked at his partner, who was nodding in agreement with Alex. The prisoner moved his face around Alex’s hand “Bro she’s digging her gun into my back, we don’t get paid enough for this shit. Just give her the fucking tube.”
The skinny man shook his head and reached down, “Which one?”
Alex said “Look for mine, my name is Alex Dupont. I was here about 2 hours ago.”
He scanned the labels on the tubes, and lifted one out, “Here it is.” The skinny man held it up so that Alex could read the label and said, “OK let go of my friend and ill give you the tube.”
Alex shook her head, “Do you think I’m fucking stupid? We are all going inside.”
The skinny man balked, “What? that wasn’t part of the deal!”
Alex said “This tube is useless without the machine. Either we all march in there together or I march in there alone. Your choice.”
The skinny man sighed, “Fine.” He turned and walked toward the door, with Alex pushing her prisoner forward. The skinny man used the keycard, and they entered the building, and walked to the elevator with Alex shuffling the prisoner behind them.
The trio arrived at the elevator doors.
Alex said, “Open it”. The skinny man swiped his keycard and the elevator doors opened. Alex gestured with her head, “Leave the tube and your keycard by the door.”
The skinny man placed both on the floor near the elevator.
“Now back away and walk down the hall.”
The man walked halfway down the hall.
“Now lie on the ground away from me and face the door”.
The man did so and then Alex pushed her prisoner forward and said “You too fat boy. Don’t turn back or I’ll shoot. Were almost done.”
The obese man walked forward with his hands up and laid down next to his friend. Their voices could be heard arguing. Alex grabbed the tube and keycard, entered the elevator, and closed the doors. She held up the large steel laser in her hand, “Thank you Mr. Laser, you gave quite the performance out there.” and placed it back in her pocket.
She swiped the keycard and headed to the 7th floor. The doors opened, but she forgot which way to go—left or right. She peeked her head out of the elevator and confirmed nobody was there. The sign “Emostraction this way” pointed to the right, so she headed that way, but the cat poster caught her eye. “Oh yeah, it was to the left, not the right,” she thought.
Alex hugged the wall opposite the elevator and crept down the hallway like a spy in a movie. Up ahead, the administrative desk jutted out. The hallway was very quiet, so every sound was amplified. Alex dropped to her knees and leaned forward. She was forced to use all her strength to crawl using one arm while carrying the tube in the other. As if that wasn’t hard enough, she had to do this and try to remain as quiet as possible. She began her crawl. Each step was deliberate and calculated. “Easy does it,” she thought. Alex slowed her movement and her breathing, careful not to exhale too hard. After a few steps, fatigue set in, and her muscles started shaking. Each step forward grew more agonizing than the last. She was almost past the desk when she felt something shift in her pocket. She looked back. The laser! “Oh, fuck.” As she shifted, the laser fell, crashing into the ground with a loud bang.
***
The man behind the desk spit out his donut and stood up. He scanned the floor but couldn’t see anything from his vantage point. Then the door in the hallway to his right beeped, the handle jiggled, and the door creaked open. He pushed his chair aside and stumbled into the hallway, with donut still in hand. He saw the door to “Emostraction Room 2” close. Flashing lights and loud sirens blared in the hallway. The phone rang, and the man reached over his desk from the hallway and picked it up.
“Hey, what the hell is going on Jenny? … Thief? … Guns? What are you talking about? … That weird-looking girl from earlier?” The man dropped his donut as the realization dawned on him. He yelled into the phone, “She’s here! On the 7th floor, in Emostraction Room 2!”
***
Alex booted up the computer, then moved the cabinets to barricade the door. She shoved the large lounge chair against the cabinets and pushed a small trash can in front of the door. Alarms blared as Alex placed the helmet on her head and the tube into the machine. She clicked the start button on the screen.
Banging came from the door. “Police! Come out with your hands up!” A chill ran through Alex; then there was a ding. The machine finished synchronizing. Muffled voices and shuffling feet could be heard from behind the door. Alex rolled the chair over to the machine and grabbed the green knob. A loud bang came from the door.
“Shit, they must be using some sort of battering ram.” Another hit, and the hinges began to deform. “Fuck.”
Alex turned the green knob from zero to 10, the hallway light shined through the massive cracks in the door. The rhythmic banging of the door became an audible countdown to her capture. Another ding, and two buttons appeared on the machine. One red, one blue.
“Shit, I forgot which one to press.”
The door exploded, and the police pulled it down from its hinges. “Step away from the machine and put your hands up.”
Alex looked back and saw them pulling her barricade apart and making their way in. She was out of time.
The police ripped the barricade away and rushed into the room. They threw Alex on the ground and handcuffed her. They lifted her up and carried her out of the room and into a hallway lined with several policemen. An older officer with a grey beard walked up to Alex. Her hair covered her face. He asked, “You’re going to jail for a long time. Was it worth it?” Alex looked up at the officer…
and smiled.