Ring the Doorbell, Scan the QR
When I go home for the holidays, I find out that my dad has installed a facial recognition machine at the front door.
"You'll have to pay an entry fee of 50 thousand dollars. Will you be paying by card or payment code?"
I thought my dad was joking at first. As I laugh, I attempt to walk through the front door while pushing my luggage forward.
But my mom passes me a price list with an icy look. "That'll be 200 dollars for dragging stuff across the floor. You'll also be charged 1,000 dollars per hour for using up the air."
I'm stunned by her words. "Mom, stop messing around already!"
But when I walk into the house, I realize that the air inside has disappeared. Unable to breathe, my face soon turns bright red out of suffocation as I kneel down on the floor.
My mom huffs coldly again. "If you want to live, then pay up!"
With great difficulty, I dig out my phone and pay the fees. Once the transaction is done, I can feel air rushing through my nostrils and into my lungs. For a few moments, I pant heavily.
As I stare at my cold-looking parents, I finally feel that something is off. So, I scramble up to my feet and rush for the door.
But that's when I find out that the front door is already welded shut. There's a payment code pasted on the door as well as a message.
"Exit fee. One million dollars."