Gametoyboy
She called again—angrier this time. It still didn’t work.
He stopped reacting to the posts and songs, even as she watched and tried. His face didn’t change. No expression, no response.
The Husbandtestomatic 3000 was known for having issues after month six of testing.
She waited on the line as the music played—elevator, coffee-shop kind of music.
On the side of the screen, her control panel displayed the tests he had passed and the ones he had failed.
She reviewed his preferences: interests, haircut, hair color, body type.
But lately, no matter what she tried, he remained cold and distant. No reaction. No change.
It was like he didn’t care anymore. She couldn’t play. The tests weren’t progressing, and she needed answers.
The same song looped again and again as she pressed keys, trying to fix something—anything—but nothing worked.
“Customer support, how can I help you?” a voice finally said on the other end of the line.
She exploded, shouting through the explanation as frustration from the malfunction—and the wait—piled up beyond control.
“Did you try turning it off and back on?” the voice asked calmly.
At that point, she was too angry to scream. She took a breath and replied evenly,
“Yes. I’ve tried turning it off and back on.”
“Right. And what seems to be the problem again?”
“I can’t get a reaction from the posts or the music, and a few minutes ago the posts stopped working altogether,” she said.
“How far along are the tests?”
“Probably about sixty percent.”
“All right. If it’s not the controllers and not on your end, we can send you a new model. Replace the obsolete unit. This one was released before the latest update—and those had issues,” the voice replied.
