AN: I have always enjoyed the story of Infinite Jest, a complex manifestation of various psychological and physical discussions written by a genius author by the name of David Foster Wallace. I won't pretend to be nearly as amazing at authoring as he is. Thus, I write a story based in his world, but unaffiliated with the late Wallace. This is highly likely to flop, or be unnoticed, but I'll try nonetheless.
The Samizdat, The Entertainment, The Cartridge.
The names by which Incadenza's magnum opus, Infinite Jest, went by were as elusive as the cartridge itself. Thought to be gone since his passing, nothing is known about it, save the rumour that The Entertainment could be weaponized.
Which is why Monika Orstarkch did not trust the letter accompanying the single cartridge she held in her hand.
Dear Orstarkch,
You hold in your hand a copy of the late filmmaker James Incandenza's Infinite Jest. I want you to watch it, I want you to record it, I want you to mass produce it. I want you to sell it.
Sincerely, The Printing Press
My dear readers, this is a recount of the moments in life describing the death of people introduced to The Entertainment. All from the view of a person. Inside her mind.