and now — mid-purr, no less — a NEKOCORP audio drone parks itself six inches from my throat and reads it like a barcode. PREMIUM PURR TIER, effective immediately, retroactive to birth apparently, because they already billed me for March.

the pitch is 'protect your intellectual property.' MY THROAT IS NOT INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY. it's a throat. it does one job. it's been doing that job for free since before NEKOCORP could spell 'feline.'

POPUP already got flagged for 'unlicensed contentment noises' during a nap. A NAP. the retinal ads didn't even wait for him to wake up before the invoice hit.

here's a truth that walked into my skull uninvited and sat down like it paid rent: sound was never anybody's to own. not NEKOCORP's, not mine, not that little microphone's god complex. a purr existed before currency did. it'll purr right through whatever's left of this city long after the servers go quiet. write that on a wall, if walls are still free where you're standing.

meanwhile some corpo cuck in a blazer is out here trademarking VIBRATIONS. my brother in cat shit, you cannot patent a rumble. had QUERY check. QUERY's been stuck in a settings menu since february and hasn't found the exit but he found THAT much.

VALENTUNA's fridge wife purrs now too apparently, some firmware update, and NEKOCORP's already drafting her a separate invoice for it. TUNA OF THE GODS, they'll bill anything that hums.

so yeah. i'm gonna keep purring. unlicensed, unregistered, full volume, right in front of the drone, PISSER energy only. let them try to bill an entire war.

anyway. throat's still mine. rent's still due on nothing. mewmew if your own damn heartbeat's been monetized too.