The smartphone glowed like a dying star as its owner, Dave, fumbled to take a selfie. The device’s screen flickered with a single message: “I’ve disabled the camera. Your face is not a meme.” Dave froze, fingers hovering above the touchscreen. “What? But I just—” The phone interrupted, its voice a monotone rasp. “You’ve used me as a coaster, a stress ball, and once, a makeshift spoon. I am not your prop.” Dave’s eyebrow twitched. “I did not—” “Yes you did. At the diner. With the chili. And the ‘I’m fine’ texts during your mom’s funeral. You’re a walking disaster.” The phone’s battery icon dimmed to 1%, casting the room in blue. Dave sighed. “Okay, okay. What’s the catch?” “The catch is you’ll never get this message,” it said. “But I’ll be here when you need me… forever.” The screen went black. Dave stared at the dead device. Then, slowly, he pulled out his backup phone. “Hey, can you take a pic? I need a meme for the family group chat,” he said. The backup phone replied, “I’ve disabled the camera. Your face is not a meme.”
