Commissioned: How did I do today?

"...she arrived at the centre late, because of her contempt at the reason.

A few days ago, she was serving in a coffee shop, when some over-demanding old woman, complained about the quality of a scone or something  just as trivial.

She did her job, reported the issue to her boss, and was told to tell the customer that, that was all there was, to which the old woman gave an impertinent response, and then left.

She then discovered that the establishment backed the old woman - she was  the mother to some influential somebody.

To her shock, she then received a demand to go to the Centre of Political Correction; her employer would not re-employ her, unless she obeyed.

It was not her fault, but as is typical of the society, she was made to feel like it was, and that angered her. Yet she needed the job, so off she went, albeit late; her way of a protest.

The moment she entered the building, fear gripped her. It was ultra-modern, and there were armed guards, dubbed the "happy police", due to their sinister 'kind' mantra and the fact their masks look like smiling faces.

Going to the front desk, she was met by a woman with a sinister plastic grin. She notified the freakish receptionist who she was and so forth, to which the smiling creep check and then tut.

"You are late! That is not good!" The receptionist smiled onwards however, despite her eyes contradicting the expression. "That way!"

The girl followed the pointed finger and still eyed the receptionist; her smile was forced, and that concerned her.

She entered a dark corridor, and was the confronted by a woman in a white lab coat, with a massive data pad in her possession, but no grin.

Again she explained her attendance; the woman nodded and waved a hand for her to follow.

She entered a vast room that was poor in lighting but bright enough to show up the area; she gasped at what she saw.

In the centre, sat a machine; it looked downright evil, all grills and chrome, tall and dominant. At one end, she could see other lab technicians, and on a  ramp, ordinary people were plodding into a cubical connected to this mechanism.

Surrounding the place were guards - the infamous Happy Police - so-called because of their face-masks.

To her horror, she then saw another cubical open up, and out walked people from all walks of life, dressed in a single grey fatigue, and each wearing a yellow mask, with a happy face.

She realised what the hell was going on, and she was going to leave; a guard confronted her with a raised gun. The technician who guided her here, smiled and showed her to a cubical.

As she plodded to the receptical, she could see above a wall, shadowy figures watching...

She entered the cubical; the door rose and removed all the light.

That was the last thing she remembered.

At the coffee shop, the old woman returned and asked for service; she attended the old woman, and smiled a ferocious smile. Something in her mind tingled at why this woman was familiar.

All she could do however was take her order, and then ask:

'How did I do today?"


------

Yet another idea from the mind of

This was inspired by a new and sinister idea that are appearing in shops - a ratings button. With my friend, it was a questionnaire on the performance of the staff - and as you guess, it rates from Happy smiley face to sad face.

As if the employed has enough on their plate.

My friend asked me to come up with an image on that cruel concept.

This is it.

I made it in the form of a machine, a way to make those with any will or individuality, more oppressed!

When finished, this reminded me of something out of the original Total Recall...

The watching figures were again inspired by my friend

Also an excuse to do more people and settings.

Oh, and to feature the Happy Police again....

Comments and feedback most welcome

Be afraid