A pill that makes you plural. Small dose, single split. Large dose, more splits. Too high and it starts to drive you a bit crazy. Well, most people say any amount of plurality makes you crazy, but some people are afraid of Advil. Can't please them all. They say most new drugs, the brain kind anyway, started because some chemist made something and licked it. Sweeteners too. Maybe that's why all the best chemists are crazy, and all the normal ones just fiddle with what the crazy ones made. Seems like a lot of society is built on top of crazy. Still, when Split hit the streets, it wasn't much different from most drugs. You got wackos getting wacked, you got drug dealers dealing, undergrads publishing how it's bad for business, and salesmen shilling the cleaner kind to business. And of course, the government taxing it their favorite way: just illegal enough to excuse incarcerating those ever aggravating poor while just legal enough to squeeze the rich for a few thousand.
Think twice as fast. You'll get that promotion. Hell, why not make every employee a team of one? Just don't get caught. And so, as society runs in place, new terms on old concepts, amidst that everloud media shuffle, I had my first case of the new era stumble into my office on shaky heels, a Split expression their face, and slam their handbag down.
One face. A dozen expressions. Just figure out which headmate did it, before they do it again.
Hit & Split: a Plural Mystery
