The F.U.X. Situation
by Sci-FiTy1972
Copyright© 2026 by Sci-FiTy1972
Comedy Story: Welcome to a world powered by F.U.X. — the Fundamental Unit of Exchange — where coffee, rent, relationships, and self-respect all come with a receipt. This fast, funny, and quietly biting satire turns modern life into a numbers game and asks the ultimate question: how many FUX is your humanity really worth?
Tags: Fiction AI Generated
When the world adopted F.U.X., the first thing people noticed wasn’t the economic implications.
It was the name.
Not because anyone at the top hadn’t noticed. They noticed. They just assumed the public would be too busy working overtime to laugh.
The official announcement declared:
F.U.X. — Fundamental Unit of Exchange
Which is corporate for: We renamed money and now expect applause.
The spokesperson stood at the podium, smiling with the confidence of someone who had never checked their own bank balance.
“This marks a new era of transparency, efficiency, and fairness,” they said.
A journalist coughed.
“So ... you’re saying everyone now officially runs on F.U.X.”
“Yes,” the spokesperson said proudly. “We are standardizing F.U.X across all sectors.”
That sentence alone made several comedians retire out of professional courtesy.
Within days, the world spoke FUX.
Gas: 4.6 FUX
Lunch: 12 FUX
Parking ticket: 85 FUX
Existential dread: complimentary with purchase
People adapted.
“I don’t have time for this, I’m short on FUX.” “My boss expects more FUX from me.” “I used to care, but frankly, I’m out of FUX.”
That last one became the national motto.
Your job performance was no longer measured by quality, contribution, or whether you were slowly losing your will to live.
It was measured by FUX throughput.
“You need to generate more FUX energy,” management said, which sounded suspiciously like something said right before adding three responsibilities and removing one coworker.
Banks launched premium FUX accounts.
The commercials were inspirational. Mountains. Children laughing. Retirees smiling in ways that suggested heavy medication.
“Put your FUX to work,” the narrator purred. “Let your FUX make more FUX.”
Nobody could explain how.
But apparently, if you leave your FUX alone in a vault long enough, it reproduces like rabbits with MBAs.
Meanwhile, regular people were doing advanced financial calculus like:
“If I skip eating three days, I might afford rent.”
“If I skip rent, I might afford food.”
“If I skip both, at least I won’t need work clothes.”
Dating got weird.
Profiles now included:
“Emotionally mature. Financially secure. Strong FUX game.”
“Looking for long-term FUX compatibility.”
“Must be FUX-positive and drama-negative.”
First dates sounded like shareholder meetings.
“So what’s your FUX outlook?” “I’m bullish on my potential.” “That’s good, I only date people with growth projections.”
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