iCount Launch Event—The First and Final Abacus

This time, they’re aiming for eleven.

The iCount wasn’t invented. It was unleashed. A crude abacus—stone beads on a splintered stick—built by a Homo who didn’t know better and backed by a crowd that didn’t know worse. Numbers have always been a soft science on OOGH-IV, but ten? Ten was safe. The Homos could count their fingers, their toes, their mistakes. Then the iCount rolled forward. Eleven. Immediate screaming. A fire breaks out—no one knows if it was set on purpose or if fire itself is protesting. Elders argue over whether to destroy the device or build a bigger one. Someone suggests they try twelve. They are chased into the woods. A handful of radicals, now forming a new political movement, whisper of a time when numbers might climb even higher. By the end of the night, the iCount is half-buried in the dirt, smoldering, worshipped, feared, and slightly chewed on. No one remembers who moved the last bead. No one wants to.

The Friendly Robot Travel Agency suggests leaving before they try again. The next number might be your fault.

Wishbone Cost: 

Rick’s Review:

dropped their club and called it ‘too dangerous to wield.’ Another started praying. By the time I left, the abacus had been outlawed, and so had the concept of ‘more.’"

Rick’s Tee-Hee Rating: