The Scratch Off

Terrance scratched at the incision in the back of his neck where his microchip had been implanted months prior. Its sole purpose was to send shockwaves throughout his body that would fry his brain and stop his heart should he fail to entertain his audience. The overworked DJ peered nervously out into the packed nightclub, shielding his eyes from the blinding lights overhead. Knowing this could be his last performance, he reached for the cup rattling in the coaster on the table next to his stereo equipment. He knew that each partygoer was equipped with an electronic wristband that fed information to the large computer built into the back of the room. Terrance watched as the monitor on the screen overhead designed to track the crowd’s heart rate dropped from green to yellow. The cup slipped from his sweaty fingers causing his stereo to short circuit as ice and alcohol flooded the exposed wiring. Shit!
Panic set in. He hastily switched from his digital stereo to the manual turntables built into the stage, thankful that he brought his outdated vinyl records along. He began furiously scratching and mixing his records, but the heart rate monitor showed no signs of crowd approval. He watched helplessly as the monitor furthered its descent towards red as beads of sweat gnawed at his incision. Terrance could see the shadow of a person begin to form off the side of the stage. He knew the man was looking for an excuse to push the button that would ultimately end Terrance’s life.
One last thing to try, he thought to himself. Managing the spinning vinyl with one hand, he ran his other hand down the stack of records in front of him until stopping at a record in a white sheith. He found his saving grace - a record that had become an instant success in his previous gigs. The monitor dropped even lower and the shadowed figure stepped from behind the curtain. Terrance placed the new record onto the turntables and the crowd erupted at the sounds of the familiar beats and melodies. The heart rate monitor began to crawl back towards its previous green standing.
Terrance breathed a sigh of relief as the crowd danced to the blaring vibrations coming from the speakers before the buzzer signaling the club’s close sounded off. Terrance turned to look at the man standing off stage who had just given his nod of approval before turning and walking away.
Terrance hunched over his turntables and smirked, realizing that he would have to fight for his life 3 more times this week.