Acclaimed housing expert and inventor of tomorrow’s forms of social domination, Dr. Angstrom H. Buckminster Troubadour, told a warm audience of white silicon valley elites exactly what they wanted to hear — the unsightliness of poverty has finally and permanently been solved by his team of scientists at the YouTopia foam mansion housing project.
“I’ve heard about the Yogi Vinay Gupta hellhole yurt and those pieces of shit are cardboard boxes that don’t get soggy.” Troubadour said. “Try living like that for a night. Try a year. They’re about as big and nice as a dog house, and the crypto mesh network has the slowest internet you’ve ever experienced. If you want tomorrow’s revolutionaries living in refrigerator sized yurts using an Internet that won’t make anyone any money, that’s fine for the third world, but Lebal Drocer and the Troubador YouTopia Foam Mansion Project promises a New World in which those displaced by corporate greed live like the 1% themselves.”
The individual foam mansion units, nicknamed YouTopia boxes by Dr. Troubadour, occupy a space roughly the size of a wooden shipping pallet but when constructed form a shining three story McMansion.
“These foam mansions are the beginning of a new era beyond sustainability. Their existence creates resources. These foam mansions promise to shake the very foundations of what it means to live inside foam. This is THE END and THE BEGINNING of the American underclass!” The audience fell silent with awe, in the grips of Troubador’s meaningful pause.
Troubador pounded his chest and the crowd withered beneath his terrible gaze, “Vinay Gupta says life viewed from inside a tiny foam yurt – a so-called solution to poverty – is to view the world from a high upon a heavenly cloud. For people like him, who have no lust for power, Lebal Drocer thinks that’s fine. But this is America, where we make winners and losers get what’s coming — a Gupta death camp. Life viewed from atop the Lebal Drocer Foam Mansion is always lined with gold, satisfyingly gripping to its foundation with the viscous blood of the shiftless masses far below.”
“The beginning of a new epoch — an invention more important than fire.”
Troubador pressed a button on his gadget and summoned a hologram fly-through of his incredible foam mansion exposing all the most beautiful, high-class amenities. “These foam castles are far better than Vinay Gupta’s hovels because they are made from 100% recycled gym mat foam salvaged from middle school foreclosures taking place all across America. The price on this recyclable material has plummeted even further since Subway ended the practice of putting it into their bread. In fact, because of total lack of regulation in so-called ‘sacrifice zones’ we’re now able to create a totally sustainable paradise home for half the price of the average sedan.”
The crowd cried out in agony as if tortured by ecstasy upon receiving knowledge that Troubador had not only solved poverty but also the issue of social mobility. He leaned forward and brought them to an even higher climax with a well-timed techno mind grenade, turning the congregation into a writhing pile of flesh, each mind surging with the force of 10,000 simultaneous orgasms.
“We got foam-ass mansions up in here. The plumbing is thin plastic – so thin – maybe it’s like thin aluminum cans or something, and we make the wires even thinner. We actually run network cables into these mansions with a free internet plan from Facebook!”
Hundreds in the audience fell to their knees, supplicants at the altar of Lebal Drocer. A woman was heard weeping. A baby spoke in tongues.
Troubadour raised his fist, and his voice, threatening any detractors. “Any talk of these mansions taking their materials from the so-called middle or lower foam class is communist ideology that will result in genocide of all castes,” Troubadour barked. “I will personally kill, with these two bare hands, any potential future dissidents calling for liberation movements on the basis of class, race, creed, or gender. Foam, and nothing but foam shall be tolerated henceforth as the only legitimate political speech and action. We would rather DIE than see our fellow man force-Ubered into one of Gupta’s hovel camps. Instead, we aim to see humanity’s worst raised to the towering height of this shining foam mansion — a castle, a conquest, a Bordello.”
The hologram foam mansion twirled and glowed, filling with the naked bodies of masturbating futanari all reaching orgasm at once, spraying their hermaphroditic fluids like a leaky firehose onto every surface of the glorious, shining foam.
