Adam is confused. It hurt itself in the confusion!

A Nightmare Future

The year is 2039. You’ve been with your partner for 12 years now. You never quite made it down the aisle, but who cares, you don’t live by society’s conventions, you’re in the mother fucking future!

Together you’ve produced two wholesome children. Ken, 8, and his adopted sister Chun-Li, 3. You really love Street Fighter. Everyone does.

In the future, everything is still the same, except the Conservatives dissolved the BBC, and Channel 4 got sold to the now largest television channel in the Uk: ITV. BBC2 made way for ITV 2. The only show that still remains from the BBC-era is The One Show, because back in 2012 it was still one of the worst programs to ever be made. In 2039, Adrian ‘face like a shed’ Chiles is back on the sofa, but it’s now co-hosted with Phillip Scofield, because even in the future he’s shoe-horned into every single piece of ITV programming. The partnership has no chemistry, and Adrian is soon shipped off to Channel 5, replaced by Holly and her chest.

You usually don’t let Ken and Chun-Li watch television. “Pointless dribble” your partner states, and you agree. You’d rather they watch old episodes of Watch With Mother, Kenan & Kel, or Digimon (first and second series). You are the coolest parents on Earth.

It’s been a few years since you and your partner escaped, just the two of you, for one night. You think back fondly to your time spent in Hull during your courtship (Hull was demolished in 2013 to make way for a Disneyland. Not one person on Earth was disappointed that this happened), so you decide that for just one night, you’ll head back there to have dinner near the lake and watch the fireworks. So magical!

You’ve never left the children with someone else, but after explaining to Ken you’ll need him to be the big, brave brother for a night, he’s excited to keep watch on Chun-Li. Of course, you’re not going to let him really look after her alone. Your partner asks a friend if they wouldn’t mind coming over to babysit for just the one night. “I’m busy” they say, “but our eldest would love to come over and watch over the little ones!”. She’s 17, responsible but obsessed with the pleb-pop-culture of 2039. Her favourite artist ever is Jessie J, and she loves Sir Gary Barlow OBE because “he just tells it like it is!”. The main point is, she’ll babysit for £30.

You kiss your children goodbye and leave, but not before telling the babysitter that under no circumstances are they to watch television. SupaDupaDiscs, this generation’s version of the DVDs, are acceptable, but not television. She agrees. You also re-enact the start of this, but the joke is completely lost on her.

The night goes fantastically well. You and your partner realize how much you mean to each-other and you laugh about the old times, how when you were 22 you used to write weird stories on your blog that no one read. Your lover even makes a ‘forever alone’ joke, but it hits a little too close to home…

After a fantastic night, you both return home. You open the door, carrying your beloved across the threshold. Total jokez. You call the children, but they don’t answer. You make your way to the living room, when you’re met by the babysitter making her way into the same room, a tube of Pringles and a refreshing Virign Cola in hand (it came back in like, 2020). “You’re back!…and early!” she says, nervously. “Where are Ken and Chun-Li?” you ask her. With her head she motions towards the living room. “I put Chun-Li to bed a few hours ago, but Ken is still awake. I think he’s waiting for you, just watching TV…”

“What!?” you blurt out. This can’t be happening. “I thought we told you, no television!”

“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. I couldn’t work the SupaDupaDisc player and…don’t worry, I didn’t let him watch anything bad!”

You know this can’t be true, because everything on British television in the future is bad. You push past the babysitter and run into the living room. Ken is sat, legs crossed on the floor, looking up at the large screen. You freeze in shock when you realize he’s watching Dancing On Ice. What kind of parent are you, now that your child’s eyes have seen such horrors? You slowly creep towards him, but he senses your presence. Without turning around, he lets out a gleeful “You’re home! I’ve just been watching TV!”. He seems very happy. Your mind starts to wonder, maybe you’ve been wrong in your aversion to television. Sure, you might not like the programs on, but surely you shouldn’t dictate what he watches. Maybe you don’t know best, and you’ve finally become the old ‘funny-duddy’ you hoped you’d never end up as.

“I’ve been watching Dancing on Ice” Ken says. He turns around and looks at you, smiling. “When I grow up, I want to do that”. Ken points at the screen, now beaming with excitement.

Your child, ice skating? It’s not an activity you’d ever thought he’d be interested in. But just because you’re not the biggest fan of it, doesn’t mean you should stop him doing what he wants, right?

“Well, maybe on Sunday, we’ll all go ice skating. How does that sound?”

“Oh, I don’t want to ice skate” he says. “I want to be him”.

Your eyes slowly look up at the screen to see the face of Chico.

“It’s Chico time!” are the last words you here from your son before your heart stops.

This is truly a nightmare future.

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3. madamechung reblogged this from adamgrundy and added:

   Nearly died laughing reading this.

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