Andy Hawthorne

Cornelius needed to confirm his weekly grocery shop, but he couldn’t remember his password…

Cornelius Coffin was annoyed. He couldn’t remember his own password. And his neural implant was threatening to report him to The Zaponian High Council. Which would be mildly inconvenient since they would then require him to turn up at the local office with three forms of ID. 

He had another go. 

“Login. Username Corny, password, Squiggly Doo.”

“Login failed. One try remaining.”

He started to sweat. And that made him itch. These new fangled membrane shirts that were meant to feed data to your health app, were uncomfortable and often sent sarcastic comments whenever he ate cheese. For reasons unknown. It didn’t moan when he ate lettuce. 

He wracked his brain but that didn’t work because there were no racks in it. He had a brain wave, but no waving was involved because the idea failed. It had been to look in his notes. But he needed to login to be able to do that. 

He thought about phoning someone for help. But of course, he couldn’t do that either. His communicator was fine. But all his numbers were stored in his implant memory. 

“Bugger, I’m an idiot,” He muttered. 

“Language violation. Report 1/1003 filed.”

Cornelius twitched. The bollard nearby was glaring at him. They’d been installed by the Zaponian High Council Directive 10/43B to try and clean up how humans spoke. 

“Oh, will you just f—“

His communicator buzzed. 

“Yes, hello?”

“Cornelius Coffin?”

“Yes, yes! What?”

“This is Supernova Shopping. We don’t have your order yet. You have 30 minutes to send a confirm message. Otherwise, your groceries will not be delivered.” 

“Oh, for bloody fuck sake!” Yelled Cornelius. 

“Language violation. Report 1/1004 filed,” squeaked the bollard. 

Cornelius glared at it and walked closer. He was seriously considering giving it a right good kicking. But then, a behaviour drone zoomed in. Another Zaponian ‘human correction’ idea. 

“Human. I detect passive aggressive behaviour. Fine applied, case 201/4.”

Cornelius decided his day had descended into total rubbish. 

“Hey, Andy! Instead of writing this bollocks, can you remember my password?”

“Er, hello. Sorry, but I don’t know it—“

“Can’t you write a bit where I remember it?” 

“Leave it with me.”

Cornelius decided to return to his modern, sleek residence in block 6 of Residential Area 12. 

“Bloody shoe box made out of glass, you mean!”

(I think he was talking to me again, there, readers.)

On his way back, he passed through the park. Or what the Zaponians thought a park was. It had a pond with fake ducks that quacked if you threw them bread. A couple of benches and some trees that were made of Papier-mâché. 

He still remembered the day the Zaponians arrived. The noisy buggers. Big bloody space ships. Loads of dust and smoke.

“BUGGER!!!”

A nearby bollard squarked:

“Language violation. Case 1004/1. Report filed.”

“Aha! Bollocks and arse to you, you bollardy bastard!”

The bollard fizzed and sparked with no idea how to process his outburst. 

He’d remembered his password! It was 01012027. New Years Day, 2027 when the alien buggers turned up. 

“Login. User: Corny. Password: 01012027.”

“Password accepted. Menu loading…”

“Bloody yes!”

He glanced at his watch. He had a few minutes to save his shopping for the week. He called up his shopping mode. 

“Please login”

“What? I am logged in, you stupid digital—“

“Shopping cancelled. Basket expired.”

Cornelius walked back and kicked the bollard that was still fizzing and sparking.