You Can Make It Up: Jessica Biel Googles Herself

After Jessica Biel finished up her morning Bikram yoga in her private roof-deck yoga studio, she kissed her yoga instructor on both cheeks and sent her off in a chartered helicopter. She made her way down to the kitchen, where her personal chef offered her a choice of three different smoothies. “I’ll have the protein-infused wheat grass and caviar today,” she said. The chef nodded, and poured the other two smoothies down the drain. “Oh,” Jessica Biel said, “that seems wasteful. Perhaps in the future I should tell you what I want rather than waiting for you to present me with a variety of pre-made options, most of which will just be thrown away.” Jessica Biel seemed like a nice enough person.

“Hey,” her personal chef said, “when you decided to make I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, did I say anything?”

Jessica Biel shook her head.

“When you decided to strip in Powder Blue, which ended up basically being a straight-to-DVD release, did I say anything?”

Again, Jessica Biel shook her head. It was true that Jessica Biel had made some questionable career choices.

“So how about you let me handle the smoothie situation, Professor Snacks.”

Jessica Biel smiled charmingly, shrugged charmingly, kissed her chef on both cheeks, and walked away. Her personal chef was kind of a jerk! Who knew?!

She passed by the bedroom where Justin Timberlake was standing in front of a full-length mirror. He was wearing white suspenders over a black button down shirt and black trousers, and he was trying on piano scarves.

“What are you doing?” Jessica Biel asked.

“Well, if I wasn’t famous I would probably be a jazz band teacher at a high school somewhere. So I’m just seeing what that would look like.”

Jessica Biel nodded and kissed him on both cheeks and made her way to the computer room. She sat down in an Aeron chair and spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how to turn the computer on. Frustrated, she looked up “computer turner-oners” in the phone book but couldn’t find one anywhere. “I guess New York doesn’t have EVERYTHING” she scoffed. So she flew to Paris.

“C’est magnifique!” she said. Then she flew back to New York and took another stab at this computer thing. When she finally had it working, she went to Google and typed in “Jessica Biel screensaver.” This will be fun, she thought to herself. I love screensavers. I could sit and stare at a screenscaver all day. It was true. She could.

A list of links appeared, as if by magic. Jessica Biel called her psychic and asked her to come over and make sure there were no evil spirits in the computer. “What do you mean?” her psychic asked, because even her psychic was like “huh?”

“Things just appeared on the screen,” Jessica Biel said. “As if by magic.”

“There are no evil spirits in your computer, Jessica Biel.”

Jessica Biel wept. It is difficult, you know. The demands the world puts on you. It’s hard to keep your priorities in order, and even reality becomes this malleable, dangerous thing.

Eventually, she clicked on a link. A window popped up. “Do you want to download this great Jessica Biel screensaver?” it said, with a yes box and a no box. She clicked yes. Her computer instantly stopped working. Huh. Suddenly red lights began flashing. Everywhere. Sirens were blaring. She could hear cars speeding quickly outside. Fighter jets boomed overhead.

“WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT DID YOU DO?” she could hear Justin Timberlake screaming somewhere in the townhouse.

She just sat there staring at her computer. What had she done?

The world melted. Cities fell into oceans of fire. Humanity was reduced to warring clans of cannibals. Scavenging beasts picked over the wreckage of human society, but not for long, as the sky soon turned to black, the sun itself blotted out. And then it was all gone.