“First things first, Amanda,” Compy stated, “We’ll start by having you evacuate your body of waste. I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have while we get you cleaned up.”
Amanda managed to calm down to the point that her voice wasn’t affected by her sobbing. As another series of robot arms transferred her morbid body from her disk seat onto a huge toilet, her first question came out.
“Why can’t I move my legs?”
“Oh,” Compy realized, “you must be an Amanda who comes from a world where most people are born with working legs. Well in this world, people are born with completely vestigial legs, whose primary purpose is to be a comfy snuggly cushion for you to sit on. Notice how your positively plush posterior feels little to no discomfort?”
“Wait, hold on,” Amanda interrupted, “You’re telling me *everyone’s* paralyzed from the waist down? Like, *born* with useless legs?”
“Exactly,” Compy confirmed.
“That’s... awful!” Amanda exclaimed.
“It’s not all bad,” Compy assured her, “For a flat premium you can get implants for your legs to be able to walk if you desire.”
“Implants?” the girl lightened up a bit, “They have implants for stuff like that?”
“We have the technology,” Compy smiled, “For a price of course. The current price of leg implants is 100,000 Bits.”
“The heck are Bits?” Amanda asked.
“Bits are the world currency, used to exchange for various goods and services. They are obtainable by a variety of means, most notably by playing video games at an average rate of 1 Bit per hour spent gaming.”
“Okay...” Amanda nodded, “Bits... are money. What’s one Bit worth in dollars?”
“Based on historic records and accounting for inflation, One Bit is equivalent to 100 in 2021 United States dollars. Have you finished evacuating yet, Amanda?”
“Oh, uh, right,” Amanda blushed, “I’m finishing shitting. Did you know this toilet has a bidet in it?”
“Bidets come standard on the modern toilet,” Compy stated matter-of-factly, “Now is time for your shower.”
The robot arms set Amanda back onto the floating disk, which hovered over to a large “walk-in” shower. A touchscreen display on the wall controlled everything, containing settings for temperature, pressure, and soap ratio. It seemed that the other Amanda had saved a preset, which she turned on. Hot soapy water descended from the ceiling, the feeling a relief on her skin. She immediately started scrubbing her hair, while more robot arms started scrubbing everywhere she obviously couldn’t reach.
“Man, this bathroom is so much more high-tech than I remember,” Amanda exclaimed in abject wonder, “What year is it?”
“The present year is 3077,” Compy explained, “Today’s date is Friday June 1st, and the weather outside is sunny, partly cloudy with a high of 70 degrees Fahrenheit, 21 Celsius. It’s 7:24 AM.”
“Oh, that’s... I’M IN THE FUTURE?!” Amanda cried, “Last night the year was 2021! How... how did a thousand years happen overnight?!”
“Maybe it was 2021 in the world you came from,” Compy mused, “That’s the only explanation I can think of.”
“I... okay,” Amanda shrugged, deciding to ponder the ramifications of this later, “So like, what kind of future is this... if you could put a hat on it?”
“In general terms,” Compy explained, “This is a Cyberpunk/Eco-Punk future. The following statements are not hyperbolic. In this world, 100% of humans are biologically female. 100% of humans deeply love all things pop-culture, video games especially. The average weight of a human being is between 600 and 700 pounds, with fat tissue accounting for most of it.”
“Wait,” Amanda interrupted, “All female... video games... 600... Everyone on earth is a morbidly obese gamer girl?”
“The preferred term is ‘fat, sexy gamer girls’ but you basically got it,” Compy confirmed, “I do hope you can acclimate to these conditions.”
“I... wow,” Amanda was left sitting flabbergasted at this knowledge. Everyone on Earth was a fat gamer girl with useless legs and had robots do things for them that they couldn’t. “That’s... I guess that’s pretty cool... in a weird way, I think I could get used to that... Hold on, if everyone’s a girl, then where do babies come from?”
“Simple,” Compy stated, “We have the technology to convert blood into semen, which-“
“ACK! YEAH YEAH, I think I got it!” Amanda squealed. She took a deep breath and decided to just finish her shower until she could think of a different line of questions. This would also be a good opportunity to test how much of herself she could reach using just her arms. Obviously she could reach the top of her head, and she could reach behind her gigantic bean bag of a butt without too much trouble. She had trouble getting into her crotch and could only barely graze her knees. Limited as she was, she supposed masturbating would have to be a problem to solve later.
“Hey Compy, I think I’m done with my shower,” she told the AI monitor. At this, the water shut off and the arms ceased scrubbing.
“Would you like to be towel dried or blow dried?” Compy asked it’s user.
“Towels, please,” Amanda requested. A new set of robot arms deposited an extremely fluffy towel in her hands while another set started drying between her toes and leg rolls. The towel was warm, like it just came from the laundry. She used it to dry herself wherever she could reach. After she was dry, the hover disk brought her over to the vanity sink, where her toothbrush and such were set out for her already. A quick brush of her teeth and application of deodorant later, she was brought back into her bedroom. The bed had been folded seamlessly into the wall, which was covered in posters of video games and her favorite bands. Another wall opened up to reveal her closet, which had all of her favorite clothes scaled up to fit her new fluffy body.
“Once you’re dressed, we can begin breakfast,” Compy stated, “What would you like to wear today?”
“Umm,” Amanda pondered, “Red t-shirt, black zip-up hoodie, my white black and red Supreme SnapBack, black sweatpants, white crew socks, and red high-top sneakers.”
“Excellent choice,” Compy smiled, “Dye your hair? Black with light-up red tips would go great with your outfit!”
“Oh hell yeah, dude!” Amanda agreed. Robot arms extended from the closet to both dress her and style her hair. When they were done, a mirror was produced for her to admire her outfit. She had to admit, for a fat blob she looked good. Really good. Sexy even.
“So, what’s for breakfast?”