Of course, working at the Cosmodemonic Broadcasting Corporation as a news writer is not David Henry's first choice for employment. But circumstances conspire against him—his parents won't lend him money, girls won't talk to him at parties, magazines won't pay him enough, and the rent is due.
Feeling out of touch with his times—"Frankly, the 20th Century scares the shit out of me"—David Henry is often caught daydreaming, drink in hand, head in the clouds, wishing he were somewhere else. Sandwiched between Gen X and the Boomers, his is not the media's generation of choice, but rather a sensitive, desperate lot who see TV as the enemy, and Madonna as, well, just plain frightening.
But David Henry, hounded by a pack of vicious creditors, needs cash and needs it quickly. If there is a way to get it (legally) without a job, he'll do it. The next best thing is the Cosmodemonic hamsterwheel, a government-owned network chock-full of overpaid louts with their snouts in the trough. Not that he has any problem with that... "Government fat tastes just like chicken," says Mr. Henry—but there is always a downside to a Faustian pact, and he is about to find out what that is, and then some.