The Meme Life

Chapter 1

Memes.

A wonderful word. One that rolls off your tongue like coffee creamer.

Memes.

A dangerous word. One that could lead to prison time and public shame.

My name is Cena. My parents named me after John Cena, one of their favorite memes. They grew up when memes were in their prime, flourishing, thriving. Now, 32 years later, memes are illegal. Getting caught with them could mean a fine and up to six months in jail. Getting caught selling memes, well, that's another story.

There was this one chick, her name was Brianna Clarence. She was a huge meme dealer. She sold thousands of memes, most of them fresh. Eventually, one of her clients turned her in so he could get a good deal on his jail sentence. She was brought down by cops, and sentenced to 27 years in prison without the possibility of parole.

As a second-generation meme dealer, I've learned how to properly deal my memes. I hide a watermark in each meme I make, but making it obscure enough that most people won't know that it's me. I also use gloves when handling them, just to be safe.

The whole reason memes were banned is absolute bullshit. One of our presidents didn't like all the political memes, claimed it was fake news or something. The FCC and him put new censorship laws into place, banning the use and making of memes. Even the Supreme Court was taken aback, but could do nothing to repeal this law. So in the last 32 years, the internet has gone to shit. Apps like iFunny, sites like YouTube, they've all suffered because of this.

As I'm walking down the street, I take my phone out of my pocket and check my texts. I'm meeting a regular client, Gerard, who wants to buy some memes. The snow-hazed streets make it hard to walk, but it'll be worth it for the money I get.

I price my memes differently for different types. For a simple 2x3 printed-paper meme, I charge about $5 for a freshie, and $3 for stale ones. People snatch any meme they can get their hands on, whether it's Bad Luck Brian from my parents years, or the newest meme, Mo Bitch. Newer ones typically cost more just because of how many fresh memes come along with them. Stale memes are cheaper because they're older than us, but kids are desperate for their next hit.

I also offer a service that very few other people match; I'll sell you a single 2GB flash drive packed full of fresh or stale memes. For stale ones, I usually charge around $80. For straight-from-my-motherboard's-womb memes, it's about $130. That's a steal when you really think about it, especially because the flash drive includes videos and pictures.

When I arrive at the door of my client's house, it immediately flings open. Gerard is an older guy, about 49, and he's addicted to what's known as 'Emo Crack' memes. Apparently, he was around for all those old bands, like MCR and Fall Out Boy. He buys a flash drive's worth of Emo Crack from me every two weeks or so. He's been with me so long, that I only sell him the fresh stuff now.

"Cena," Gerard says.

"Gerard," I say back. I reach my hand out to shake his, something we always do. Except, in my hand is a flash drive, and in his is my $130.

"Thanks, Cena. Tell your dad I said hello." Gerard gives an awkward smile as he says this. We've known each other for a while, and he grew up with my dad. He's just very anti-social. I think a lot of it stems from the fact that MCR never got back together.

"I will," I say. "I put some Cheese Whiz and Thanks Pete memes in there for you, since I know how much you love them. They're all fresh edits."

Gerard's eyes light up when I say this. "Really!? Oh boy! I'm gonna go watch these right now! Thank you, Cena." Gerard gives me a nod before I turn and walk away.