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One: The Legend of Black Cat Jack

One: The Legend of Black Cat Jack

Pomo looked into the webcam, then stared at her image on the computer screen. The LCD light reflected off the highs of her cheekbones, contrasting with the dark pits of her 18-hours-of-screen-time eyes. She hit a button, turning on her LED setup. Pink light shone along the edge of her pastel mousepad, inside her lightweight, ergonomic mouse (white, special edition), and inside her glass-panelled PC tower. The pink light smoothed out the red blotchiness of her skin and made her look like she had slept in the last 24 hours.

She turned her microphone on. It had a pop filter and an adjustable arm, essential gear for the video game streaming career that kept getting deferred but would surely start soon and then catapult her to internet fame.

"Test, test," Pomo said into the microphone. Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper, threatening to crack.

A message appeared in the discord server's live stream channel: "Are you ready?"

She considered putting makeup on for the occasion, but that would require washing her face. If she was going to wash her face, she hadn't done that in a while, so she might as well have a shower, which she also hadn't done in a while. If she was going to have a shower for the first time this week, she might as well brush her teeth while she was at it. If she was going to do that, she needed to find the new charger for her electric toothbrush; the cord on the other one had stopped working somehow, even though she rarely used it. And, if she was going to do that, she might as well clean her entire bathroom. She didn't have time for any of that, so she grabbed the tube of liquid eyeliner from between the energy drink cans and empty popcorn bags on her desk. She put her phone in the adjustable holder, another streaming necessity, then used the front-facing camera as a mirror to apply a thick layer of liner around her eyes while listening to her favourite kawaii future bass playlist. The black added a nice contrast. Maybe she'd take a selfie later, if she could shape her greasy bangs into a presentable arrangement.

Pomo cleared her throat. It was hard to do; it felt scratchy. She grabbed a can from the desk, but it was empty. She tossed it into the heap of trash in the corner, then went through the gallery of cans on her desk and lifted one after another, searching for the one she'd opened recently. Surely, she hadn't finished it already? The aluminium cans clinked against each other as she shuffled them on her desk. One fell over; thank god it was empty, or it would have stained her pastel mousepad. However, now wasn't the time to sort things on her desk; her audience was ready, and it was nearly time to begin, so she grabbed a fresh can from the mini-fridge. The fridge was technically classified as mini but could hold 127 cans, which she would typically go through in five or six days.

She joined the discord call at 3:33 AM. When it began, there were five people. She was the only one with a webcam; they were all there to see her. Messages began popping up in the chat channel. After another two minutes, there were fifteen viewers, then twenty-five, all watching her, waiting, typing in chat and sending emotes. This event had been on the discord event list for several weeks.

She looked at herself in the webcam-turned-mirror. Her hands shook slightly, making typing and updating the settings a little harder. Still, she'd agreed to this and wanted the $500 the server had pooled as motivation. In her mind, the money was already spent on the newly released Halloween edition Black Cat Jack Squishmallow.

The emote rate in the channel sped up. Many of them were variations of Pusheen eating a bucket of popcorn. She wished she had popcorn. Maybe there was time to make some before everything. Maybe she should have eaten before all of this. Maybe that would make it easier.

But she knew nothing would make it easier.

Pomo spoke: "I'll be right back."

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She went to the kitchen and got the bowl that was the supporting character or perhaps even the show's star. She held the bowl up to the webcam, displaying the contents.

Chat in the event channel sped up, almost entirely composed of emotes. There were now thirty-seven people, a landmark attendance server event.

The low light faded the colour of the contents, but that only made them less appetizing, something she couldn't believe was possible. She looked back at herself on the screen, then down at the bowl. The star of the show had been cut into slices earlier. Her mouth hurt, her teeth hurt. For the past two weeks, there'd been a sensitivity in her teeth, probably from rotting her mouth with energy drinks, and she'd pacified the feeling by rubbing pain relief toothpaste on her teeth and gums. She wanted to do that now, but people were watching, people were waiting.

She picked up a circular slice. Slimy, it was slimy and dripping with liquid, some sort of goo that dripped back into the bowl, with seeds. Her other hand clenched into a fist.

The discord chat surged with messages and emotes.

She kept her head far from the specimen, and her breathing stopped. The stink of it was awful. Was it rotten? Were they all like this? Pomo moved it closer to her face, trying to prepare herself to take a bite, but a glob of goo and seeds plopped onto her pyjama-clad thigh. She dropped the slice into the bowl and ran into her bathroom, then braced herself over the toilet, waiting for something to come up. When nothing did, she went to the sink. Her skin was pale and blotchy in the cold-toned light above. Her eyeliner was slightly smudged, but she'd need to wash her face to get it off, and she was out of eye makeup remover anyway. Her mom kept forgetting to pick it up from the store.

She looked at her sunken, eyeliner-blackened eyes.

Squishmallow. Squishmallow. Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition). Squishmallow. The Halloween edition had a little witch hat and a tiny matching pumpkin plush. She thought of the superior Squishmallow patented squish texture and imagined rubbing over the plush fabric. Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition.) Black Cat Squishmallow. Plush, squish, plush. Tiny witch hat, tinier pumpkin. Squishmallow, squish.

Back in her room, the chat had been waiting. She'd been gone for 20 minutes.

She situated herself in front of the webcam, picked up the bowl, and grabbed a slice, Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition) in her mind. She held the slice to the webcam to prove she was doing it right. She was ready. She could do this, do it for Jack. Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition.) The stink, the stench, the discord chat, the gloop, the black cat, the tiny witch hat, the squish of the plush, the squish of the slice between her fingers. Her eyes watered, and her stomach twisted. Black Cat. Witch Hat. Tiny Pumpkin.

She put the slice of tomato into her mouth. It was the first vegetable she had eaten that didn't come attached in some way to a slice of pizza in years. Slime, goop, seed, tiny witch hat. She swallowed it, and it went down slow. Her eyes watered. Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition.) The chat went wild. She ate, she ate, one slice after the next, 500 grams for $500, 500 grams for Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition.) Squish, plush, squish, slime, goop, seed, plop.

Bowl empty, success, elation. Weeping, sobbing, the squish would be hers. Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition) was hers.

She ran to the bathroom, threw up 500 grams of tomato and six 0-calorie energy drinks, then returned to $500 in PayPal and placed the order.

The event was the first time she had eaten a food that wasn't pizza or popcorn for months and months and perhaps even years, and Jack was a worthy prize. However, her progress would reset to zero at her next meal at 8 AM when she ate cold pizza, straight from the fridge before passing out in her nest of tangled blankets on her bed. No one in her discord server full of friends was surprised at her relapse as there were three reliable factors to life: death, taxes, and Pomo's aversion to real food. Perhaps they'd start with something more palatable next time, but who could have expected her aversion to a simple tomato, one of the world's most universally enjoyed foods and an essential part of the pizza she existed on?

Black Cat Jack (Special Halloween Edition) arrived five business days later. He took up a spot on top of the Bluetooth speaker, elevated to the left of her computer screen where she could always see him and his tiny hat and tinier pumpkin from her peripherals. A reminder of her victory over the dreaded tomato.

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