34. fun house / i don't feel like dancing

The boîte thunders as the emoticons and such are traded by – that being all the music there is, the stereo having been disconnected very long ago.
There was no alcohol being served and there were about seven in the evening. Yet, tweens streamed in, virtually twiddling each other in VeriSim chat rooms. You could get your own booth to dream away in.
There had been a long court battle to allow under-13's to access VeriSim technologies; in the end, the lawyers obtained only the tweens' access to zeroed environments. No ads. Actually, no furniture, no ceiling, no floor, no nothing. Stimulus to creativity was employed as an excuse, of course.
- There is a educational link we should consider...
Out of nothing nerd kids would make their own RPGs - of vampires, of knights, of... Out of nothing dandies would make kingdoms with statutes, titles and distinctions. Cosplayers would create extravagant environments, clogged with blinking colors. Debbies would inter themselves into sororities and luxury spas. And in all of them dirtness was a leitmotif.
- No, no, we only share the means. Parents should be able to.. - so on, so on.
Afraid to lose their dairy cow, the companies behind the technology paid for the first onomatopaic boîtes. The onno are surrounded with care. No adult or adult stuff enters, under no circumstances. Cyber waiters, all of them. Cherry juice in the bar: a hit.
Therefore, as much as it can be made out of that cacophony, there's a sweeping amazement when three adults materialize into the virtual lobby wearing the sleeky brown-and-red uniform of Wind Co.
The debbies have a pledger disconnect to see what's going on; the dandies send a valet. The valet comes back first.
- They have a tween's body and an old person's mind, Sir.