Chapter 1: Truck-Kun Struck!
The warehouse smelled like synthetic cherry blossoms.
Chuck Martinez pressed his face against the latest arrival, a limited edition Sakura-chan body pillow with "ultra-realistic skin texture", and wondered how his life had become a series of professional cuddles with fictional women.
The fabric was softer than usual, he’d give it that. The print quality showed no pixelation even up close. But the stuffing had that cheap, lumpy feel that would flatten within a month of regular use.
Not that Chuck would know from personal experience. That would cross the line from pathetic to rock bottom.
He pulled back and scribbled notes on his clipboard:
[Exterior: 8/10. Print quality: 9/10. Filling density: 6/10. Overall tactile experience: 7/10.]
The words felt hollow as he wrote them. Every review he’d written over the past two years read like a suicide note disguised as consumer advice.
"Yo, Chuck! How’s the girlfriend treating you today?"
The voice belonged to Marcus, one of the warehouse guys who found Chuck’s job endlessly entertaining. Chuck didn’t look up from his clipboard. He’d learned that acknowledging the mockery only encouraged it.
"She’s the strong, silent type," Chuck muttered, jotting down more notes about fabric composition.
"Must be your dream girl then. Finally found someone who won’t talk back."