8:00 AM: Hattie's eyelids flutter open.
8:05 AM: Hattie astral projects to the kitchen and consumes an entire liter of relish.
8:10 AM: Hattie wakes up her gaggle of slaves, uhhh minions, by throwing a bucket of ice-cold water on them. She assigns them with the thankless job of plagiarizing the sentences from editorial reviews.
9:00 AM: Hattie's boatload of ARC arrives at her front door step.
9:30 AM: Hattie calls up her son in order to sell her massive load of ARC on half.com. Hattie grows increasingly petulant at not being mentioned as one of Forbes List of America's Richest People. Her Advanced Readers Copies sell more than J.K Rowling's latest book (which she hasn't fake reviewed yet)!
10:00 AM: Hattie hears the front door slam, signaling the hasty exit of her despondent hubby. She begins speculating that her hubby is having a fast-paced love affair with booze, barmaids, and mannequins.
10:30 AM: Hattie cracks open her ancient thesaurus to the same "engaging" adjective. She tries to memorize the other synonyms but her rusty mind fails her like a leaky faucet.
11:00 AM: Hattie receives a call from her co-conspirators (Amazon), informing her that her "reviews" are creating a cacophony of angry protesters. They are constantly besieged by a tidal wave of complaints about their #1 Illiterate Fraud.
11:30 AM: Hattie receives her generous paycheck from publishers. She pops open a bottle of homemade relish in celebration.
1200 PM: Hattie marches to the inner sanctum of her dungeon where her mindless minions are living (barely). She gives them a pop quiz comprised of relish and gibberish.
1:00 PM: Hattie begins to fantasize about lower-heads covered in relish. Her morbid fantasy segues into a fake reviewing policy where every adjective/verb is turned obsolete except for relish (and gibberish).
1:30 PM: Hattie begins to fantasize about shutting down the HKAS blog. They are making a mockery out of her! So what if she has the IQ of a gnat?! What she lacks in intelligence/proper grammar/syntax, she makes up for it in unscrupulous behavior. She wasn't named as the #1 Hall of Shame Reviewer for nothing!
2:00 PM: Hattie forgoes lunch. She marches to her pile of unread books, picks up a book, and inhales its scent deeply. The scent of unread books convert into boundless energy in her body and she/it instantly becomes energized.
3:00 PM: Hattie orders her Cavalry to down-vote on the snarky comments of the Anti-HK-Fraud Society. The Anti-HK-Fraud Society is a pain in her lower-head but she didn't fake review this long for nothing!
4:00 PM: Hattie holds a meeting with Amazon's Board of Directors in order to find a solution to the Anti-HK-Fraud problem. Their comments are a threat to her fraudulent career! Publishers are threatening to dock her paycheck! She particularly doesn't like Embee, Beachmama, Sneaky, Buck, Dona, Strong Coffe Lover, MJN76, L.Donner, The Truth. Those commentators are causing her an ulcer and she's an alien for crying out loud! Aliens don't get ulcers! She's becoming too human! At this rate, she might even bleed blood! Or even develop a smidgen of ethics! Yikes!!
5:00 PM: Hattie begins to skim the first and last page of her ARC books in preparation for her special TuesDump Day. Even though she doesn't understand a word, the sub-genre, and who wrote the fast-paced books, she gives them all a 5 star rating! Comprehension is so overrated!
12:00 AM: after typing 140 garbled, fake reviews, Hattie enters them into Amazon's reviewing system with the solemnity of an executioner. "This is all for the greater literary damnation of mankind," Hattie whispers to herself gleefully.
1:00 AM: Hattie hears the hinges of the front door open. She guesses it's her estranged hubby but she couldn't care less about him. Fake reviewing is her aphrodisiac and erogenous zones. (Well, that and writing about bulging lower-heads.)
2:00 AM: Hattie closes her eyes but she doesn't sleep. Machines like her don't need sleep. She was engineered for a single purpose and that purpose was to defraud Amazon customers and readers...with relish!
2 comments:
I wish I had any talent for drawing! After reading this I was picturing Harriet, whip in hand and wearing BDSM style boots, standing in front of a group of hunched over flunkies, chained to their keyboards, yelling ‘Type, type, type Tuesday is coming!’ while a troll on loan from Amazon beats on a drum.
Beachmama, your hilarious comment made me laugh out loud! Now I have this mental image of Hattie doing just that! She probablly has her poor hubby chained to the keyboard, too! I bet she Tippexed the keyboards in order to sustain the Gibberish language.
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