Frank removed his neural synced hard hat. “It’s hopeless!”

“Hey man, the regulations say never to remove that,” said Bob.

“But Bob, will we ever clean it all up?”

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“I dunno, man. I mean, first, they distributed those damn replicators everywhere with a promise of post-scarcity. But they didn’t plan on people always tossing so much away.”

“Never-ending mounds …” Frank pointed to the horizon.

“I know, man. Instead of stopping it all, they gave us these virtual hookups. I mean, when you experience paradise, who cares, right?”

Frank put his hard hat back on and shrugged. “Sure, who cares?”