Inside the package was a rub on temporary tattoo of a QR Code or bar code. Chad chucked at the stick'em note attached to it. "Place it somewhere hard for me to find. I cannot wait to scan you."
Naked and damp after his shower, Chad paused in the locker room to decide where to place the temporary tattoo. He debated among his butt cheek, armpit, shoulder, chest, thigh, inner thigh, and the space between his anus and his nuts under his torso, or maybe on his ankle or foot. At last Chad decided. He applied the tattoo, waited for it to set, and peeled off the paper in one swift move. Then grabbed his smartphone. He had tried scanning the backwards code, but his phone couldn't read it. Now he carefully positioned his phone, and scanned the QR code.
The moment Chad's phone pinged identifying the QR code, Chad started to feel odd. He moved slowly, as if he was suddenly weak as a kitten. He stared at his screen. The QR code was an inventory code. Chad realized that as soon as he connected with the internet, he had activated the tattoo and altered his reality. He no longer was the quarterback, or even human, he was...