The blue light flickers to green, showing I've eaten below my regulation level of fat and sugar. Thank fuck for that, I can't take another visit from the Doctors. The last examination hurt so much I couldn't sleep.

I hear the dusty modem connect to the Authority's servers, where it sends my data and calculates the price of my piss. It seems it's a good one today - it's given me enough credits to buy a shot of orange juice. Must be Chloe's cooking.

The goons take the guy in the cubicle next to me. Too much nicotine.

Seems I pissed slower than usual today as I'm seeing the prostate transplant advert. I remind myself to drink more water.