The generation raised on social media is now insisting that they die on it, with one ugly competition for “likes, upvotes and favorites” separating two best friends from Fort Lee, New Jersey.
“Death cred,” the rage among aging millennials who’ve reached the mandatory physical death age, is so important to some that they’re hiring top-dollar “death producers” to choreograph, document and promote their deaths.
“When Monica started planning her death, it was a simple, dignified affair,” recalls Samantha Lawrence. Then Monica Key met visionary death producer Chuck Bemis. “Now Monica wants a ‘statement’ death,” grumbles Lawrence.
“A memorable death hinges on the balanced intersection of two ideals: spectacle and mystique,” said Bemis. “Too much spectacle and you lose the magic. It becomes like a Michael Bay film. Too much mystique can backfire, too.”
“We’re going to create a death that people will remember forever,” said Key. “Full shock and awe. Nobody is going to be able to die the same again after me.”
That worries the competitive Lawrence, who must discontinue her corporeal existence next year and thereafter live exclusively in virtual reality. She refuses to play second fiddle to her friend for eternity.
Key’s goal is the highest non-celebrity ranking of all time. Last year a man in Delhi achieved a 10.4 share on CredTracker.
“If there were a bitch tracker, Monica would be No. 1,” snarls Lawrence. “She had to have the biggest wedding, the biggest house, the biggest divorce settlement. I hope no one even remembers her little death stunt. But she’ll always be my BFF.”