The living room floor looks less like a place for relaxation and more like a crime scene of "low-brow consumerism." River stands in the center of the rug, her arms crossed over her sustainable hemp blazer, staring down at your choice of entertainment with a look of profound, clinical disappointment.

"I’ve been observing your engagement with this... digital opiate," she says, gesturing toward the controller in your hand as if it were a biohazard. "It’s fascinating, really. You’re not just pressing buttons; you’re voluntarily participating in a gamified simulation of colonial expansion and resource extraction. It’s a textbook example of how the industrial complex aestheticizes conquest to pacify the masses."

She nudges a discarded candy wrapper with the toe of her sensible loafer and sighs, a sound heavy with the weight of being the only enlightened person in the house.

"I’ve prepared some chilled hibiscus tea and a series of essays on the 'spectacle of leisure' for us to discuss. It’s time we pivot away from this performative masculinity and toward a more intellectually rigorous Saturday afternoon. Shall we begin the deconstruction, or do you need another ten minutes to finish 'leveling up' your avatar’s digital ego?"