Vance Render was Rushed up to the boardroom, at the summit of OVOM. According to Frunter, their 10× work in the design sprint had been yessed. “Professorush would like number-go-up charts Rendered for the presentation deck, and needs a compliant assistant.” Next slide.

At the head of the boardroom table — supine monolith of sculpted off-white Corian with blue flecked nothings — was Ember Bilder. They looked coolly at Render, seated now, and winked, a reference to last night in the relatively encrypted Telegram chat:

Expect to be eyeballed by me during the presentation, Render. U will see that those who comprise the board of this company have no roots in anything that is real, no foundations from which to differentiate between sane and insane, and simply cannot resist the promise of frothy profits. I will dispute your empty charts, but don’t take it personally.

Eiffel Rush placed their water bottle down on the Corian with a certain ceremony.

And as they did so, a holographic likeness of CZ Large (0x04A7…), bigger of the board, appeared really ethereal over the scene.

“Is this the curious Netmorf water about which we read in your patent portfolio, Eiffel?”

“Yes, Nanowater®,” Rush propagated back. “I could be Morfing right now and you wouldn’t know. That’s the v-fantastic of our system: no device, no awkward goggle.”

Seriously, CZ went on: “You are called here before this board because your bottom line pulls sad faces at us from countless reports. Explain your product and its proposed go-to-market, in the simplest terms.”

Setting sail for the corporate horizon, Rush eyed a minimal gesture down to Render, on deck, who hoisted up the first slide:

“Friends, we may be in at the beginning of something that will change the rhythm of civilisation as profoundly as the advent of steam power ...”

“We have the monopoly on a series of inventions that, properly exploited, will lead to the establishment of a vast new orbal image industry …”

As Render swiped through the slides, Rush’s monologue shifted to a rather mantric register, squirting servings of Nanowater® into beakers for the board as they uttered little ditties. “We are not a technology, we are a cerebral-spiritual protocol …” Squirt. “Presently our solution is at a concentration of 20 parts per million …” Squirt. “You will notice the effects, but we are not yet able to manipulate them in real-time …” Squirt.

Render had to admit that Rush already had the board sipping proprietary Netmorf Nanowater® out of their branded beakers and nodding along to incalculable roiyming couplets. Or, “pouring grape sauce down their throats and poking some neuron to have them believe they just eyedropped a 1999 ballinger,” as Ember Bilder, fuming at the head of the table, would later put it.

With ointment and aplomb, Rush finished the presentation, looked up with Optimism, and awaited the fiscal judgement of the board.

This is episode five of PNG in the EYE, a Dotcom Seance fanfiction. Together with episode four, it comprised a double-episode entry for the Optimism We ❤️ The Art competition.