It is the first week of July in the high technological year of 2013. App maker Benedicte Raae and her award winning team is gathered around their mentor Lilly and her multipurpose monstrosity of a machine, Little Lilly. They are in the belly of a ship in the harbour of the tiny town of Oslo. Capital of Norway, a small insignificant country in the far north of Europe.
The team of four climbed down into the hold of the ship just a few minutes ago. Seeing the ship from the outside Benedicte would never guess it could contain a machine as vast as Little Lilly. Lilly, a little old lady, is standing on a chair in her flowery dress and her curly hear almost reaches to the top of the shiny black and green machine.
Little Lilly is many times longer than she is tall. As a matter of fact Benedicte is squinting to see better into the shadows Little Lilly stretches into. She can recognize no end to the magnificent machine. Little Lilly just continues into the darkness.
Benedicte´s mind is not really on the machine in front of her though, but rather on the #lillygram letters that will soon come out of it. And the grandmas and grandpas who are eagerly waiting to receive photos of their grandchildren in their snailmail boxes. Benedicte’s eyes snaps into focus when Lillys confused face turn away from whispering to the huge machine.
– I don’t think Little Lilly is in the mood for printing today. Lilly says with a doubtful voice.
– Well. Why am I NOT surprised? Asks the prankster and self-styled harlequin of the team, Ola Narr.
– It does not surprise me that such a big, ugly machine, has a big, ugly temper.
The silence is palpable. The creaks of the ship they had become used to is gone.
– What, did you just say? Lilly’s voice is very even and very low.
– I said. He paused. Some machines look more cute the angrier they get.
Lilly leaned her ear close to listen to the wispers from Little Lilly.
– Little Lilly says, non will get their #lillygram letters unless this human is removed. Leave now or burn!
Six weeks of hard work was in jepoardy. The teams mouths are agape. Except Ola Narr, he has a crouked grin. His left eye is half closed in a lazy fashion. He leans nonchalanly with his left foot on the wall behind him an his hands on his hips. Benedicte rises her hand to silence him before his big mouth lands them in real trouble. Ola Narr ignores her
– Gee, almighty machine. Take a look at my left knee, it trembles like an aspen leaf.
They all look at his knee.
– Nooot. Moooaaahahaha!
The cannon like nostrils of Little Lilly glows more and more intensly red. Two pencil thin rays of rey light settles on Ola Narrs´s tummy. He looks down in puzzlement.
– Well, well, well. He says with mock awe.
– If it is not the twin flash lights of supreme power and infinite wisdom.
Two little black spots appear on his sweater in the red glow. Thin tendrils of grey smoke twirls up. The smoke gets in his eyes and nose. Almost absentmindedly he rubs his eyes and choughs. Once, twice, the third chough is deep. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is red. He bends over with his head almost to the ground. A kind of retching sound is heard. Still bent low he runs unsteadily for the ladder and climbs to the deck
– Oookay. Benedice says. Let’s get back to business. Little Lilly, your demand is met. He left your presence. Now, let’s see those #lillygram letters, please.
Lilly leans close her head almost touching the machine and the two Lillys whisper for a long while. Barfing sounds can be heard from the deck.
– Little Lilly has two things to say about the future. Lilly says. Firstly she refuses to print #lillygram letters from more than 150 people. If you want to know why, check out «the Law of 150» by Robin Dunbar Secondly, Ola Narr must die. Just kidding. Ola Narr must do the dishes for a week, after he has scrubbed the deck and side. On account of him having shared his dinner with the crabs in a must untidy way.