This Hologram Does Not Satisfy

This morning, some dirty rag woman in the bus told me the following:

“This Hologram I’m breathing does not satisfy. The lame wickedness of the wench above these broken towers is never as scary as I asked them to be. There is no customer complaints department in the ministry, though, so I might just as well bite my toes and say cheese.”

I didn’t understand at first. What Hologram? But then I looked out the window and saw these huge billboard ads promoting families with 18 children, and somehow, I understood. As I finished my last cigarette, I turned towards the dirty rag woman, but she was gone and in her seat I found a piece of bone that looked a lot like a goat’s horn.