Author : JR Blackwell, Staff Writer

“I don’t want to go to the United States.” Wilkin slumped, his head falling into the cradle of his arms. His lawyer, the Silver Cyborg, as he liked to be called, put a heavy sympathetic hand on Wilkin’s shoulder.

“Sorry Willi, I wish I could appeal this again, but it looks like they’ve made a final decision on your case.”

Willi looked up from the metal table. The skin around his eyes was red and puffy. “Tell them that if I have to leave the European Union, I will kill myself.”

The Silver Cyborg shook his gleaming head. “Willi, don’t be rash.”

“Have you heard what they do over there? They eat animals and kill each other for diesel fuels.”

“They have a different way of living. I’m sure you’ll become accustomed to it.”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment! They can’t do this to me!”

“Willi, calm down.”

“God, you were my lawyer. You were supposed to keep this from happening!”

“Wilkin, and I don’t want to be too forward here, but I’ve been curious. What did you think would happen when you started leaving those abusive messages all over the network? What did you think would happen when you were sending those e-mails to those girls or pretending to be a girl yourself and taking people’s money? What, honestly, did you think would happen?”

“I don’t know. I thought, maybe, I would get fine or something, a net ticket or whatever.”

“Willi, they’ve been deporting Trolls to the U.S. for fifteen years now. I don’t know why you thought you could get away with this.”

When Willi heard the word Troll, it made him slump in his chair. “It just got ahead of me. I would see something and I just couldn’t help but comment, track the poster down and really get to them, I don’t know. I couldn’t help myself.” Willi’s face brightened. “Say, do you think you could push this off as a psychological problem? We could tell people I’ve got an addictive personality. You think you could appeal on that?”

The Silver Cyborg picked up his data pad, which was modified to have a silver surface that matched the Cyborg’s own skin. “Honestly? No.”

Willi pounded the table. “What if I have a nervous breakdown?”

The Silver Cyborg knocked on the wall, signaling the guard to unlock the hidden door. “Have a nice flight to the U.S. Willi. I hope people enjoy your flames over there.”