FYOP/Hollywood Hardware/0037
"I'm going to win," Janelle says, picking up the controller again. "I'm going to beat her ass and make her take me back."
And that's exactly what she does. She plays the dating sim obsessively, determined to win, and eventually she does. "Like, oh my god, you're totally not gross anymore," Kesha says, smiling at Janelle on the screen.
"See, I told you I could do it," Janelle says, putting the controller down and turning to you.
"I'm impressed," you say, genuinely impressed. "I've never seen anyone play that game the way you did."
"Of course you haven't," she says with a wink. "I'm a robot. Hey, boo—maybe we ought to go back to Hollywood Hardware and ask them to make us a real Kesha. She'll act just like the one in the game, but she's gonna be as real as me. She'll be awful." Janelle smirked from ear to ear, clearly in love with the idea of having a hot, snooty, easily-offended valley girl around the house to tease.
"I—guess I can afford it? Fuck," you murmur. "I just finished paying off my college loan. ...Okay."
The next day passes fast, and you and Janelle are soon driving a very realistic gynoid Kesha home with you: a bratty, sexy, but snooty white girl with big sunglasses. "We're gonna make you our girlfriend in real life," Janelle grins at her.
Kesha is offended. "Like, gross! I would never date either of you! You're, like, totally not my type."
"Oh, we'll see about that," Janelle says, winking at you.
What in God's name will you do?