“Let’s try the Half-Moon Pose,” she says, her silky-smooth voice sliding down the nape of my neck like a bucket of leeches. “This stance can help align your spine.” I remind myself that I’m not attracted to a set of polygons and it’s back to business as usual.

I’ve been using Wii Fit regularly for the past ten years or so. We’ve gotten to be good friends at this point, my digital trainer and I, at least insofar as a human and a mindless pre-scripted avatar can be friends. Sometimes, in particularly lonely moments, I’ll confide in her, talking to the pixels about what’s going on out here in the flesh-and-blood world. Sometimes I fantasize about her replying, perhaps with gossip about whatever incestuous Mii orgies go on when the screen’s turned off.

“Stretch your spine and fingers upward. Bend your pelvis to the left and your arms to the right.” I close my eyes and relax, following instructions that I’ve heard a hundred times before. It’s muscle memory now, the words soothing my mind and the stretches relaxing my tired limbs. “Inhale deeply, and consider why, if the poor don’t like being poor, they don’t just earn more money.”

My eyes shoot wide open. What?

“Now the other way. Breathe slowly.” It must’ve been my imagination. There’s no way she would say something like that. I let my eyes drift closed again. “Keep your balance; remember not to strain yourself. Just like illegals and bums strain America by mooching off her welfare.”

Now I turn to glare at her. I’m certain I didn’t imagine that. On screen, she’s adopted a lecturing pose. “If you have a job that pays so little for so much work, why not find a better job? Cut down on costs and start saving money to buy property. I didn’t have anything when I was your age, but I worked hard and got to where I am now. Stop being so entitled and —”

I turn the screen off, and the Wii console too, my hands shaking. My eyes well with tears. There’s only one thing to do now. I have to— I have to— I have to donate my Wii to Rush Limbaugh.

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