In the mundane, current-gen world of our "competitors", a physical store stocks a limited supply, while its online counterpart provides access to everything, if with a time delay as things are built and delivered.
(Also: while touching demo products is encouraged offline, one should keep one's fingers away from the specialists.)
In Shniff Land, it works a little different. Our physical stores – over a thousand across the globe, sites selected based on patterns from the Orb, each serving as a node, interconnected, and repositioned, occasionally, as our knowledge of the artefact increases – provide immediate access to everything blessed by Shniff, of our own design and our alien-approved partners, powered by what we call our "magical back rooms". Our specialists will bring you whatever you desire, whether expressed in words, or thought, determined by you, or their own insight. We guarantee you'll be pleased. Almost certainly, you will feel an urge to touch your specialist. Please do so. They've been trained by an alien First Contact manual to welcome your excitement.
Our selection is more limited online, if still exciting. There is a back room, of a sort, the code powering this site, but it is, necessarily, native text, and so: we can only offer so much tech, lest your browser becomes overwhelmed and explodes your device. Even branded Shniff. And you will be covered in – if you'll pardon – shit, with our "competitors".
Shniffit will save the day. For while the selection will stay the same for current-gen browsers, the interdimensional view will open windows to the Orb. To its patterns, the magical back rooms. Things will just appear. In your kitchen, home office. Your bedroom.
Feel free to become your own specialist…
Do you dream of a phone-type device which could slip easily into your leather pants without unsightly bulge and periscope effect, and yet when removed, could offer a screen the size of a tablet, TV – an ocean, even! – while still allowing one-hand use, plus the option for a two-week cruise?
Well dream no more! Or rather… continue to dream, but now not of "of", but of "do". Dreaming of: what you'll do. All the things! For it exists! And it is, even now, being shipped by two-day cruise. Two-month returns. No questions asked. Well just the one…
. plus two: ++ 2 = six-dimensional substrate ++ crystal-rodded boost, plus Blue Vapour CPU. GPU. U. Make it you. Yours. Engraved with your interdimensional name, if you so desire.
"Ready?" the captain asks.
"Am I ready… I…"
Don't be "that" person, you. Do: of you. Don't be, effectively, asleep in this world, staring at your current-gen device. There is magic right before you! Next-gen+, ++, next-next-gen+++ configurations, the last with the two-week cruise across the ocean of your screen. Dream. Be a child, for a time. Be in wonder of it all! WOW!!
Then slip it in your pocket, state, with the assurance of alien blood: "Yes, Captain, I am. I have returned, in this moment, from the two-week cruise and am ready for another of indeterminate length, what with the interquantum gate and all. This ass is entirely my own, with zero technological enhancements. I have worked hard – damn hard! – for this meat, toned like a machine."
"Come, walk with me. Let us discuss the ritual."
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Lick your way to alienotic variance and an interdimensional name with our complimentary genetic test. Proudly display your name with our gorgeous selection of interdimensional name tags in a variety of woods, metals, etc.
Our complimentary genetic test provides both your genetic variance and, with a little extra effort, your interdimensional name. A variance approaching Level 5 – and ideally 5 – suggests a readiness for the ultimate geminOS experience. Your interdimensional name suggests…
Well, we don't really know tbh. Yes, we have the most brilliant engineers. Yes, we have the most attractive welcomers at the reception desk at Shniff HQ. And yes, there is a Level 5 entity, a former welcomer, engineer, with the name X Verexus, whose non-wedding to Vanilla Emission aficionado and Shniff Inc Director of Alien Relations, Zohan Pahsh (commemorative invitation available; proof of non-attendance required), was attended by a thousand guests, each of whom hid their identity behind a veil; each of whom had donated a million credits to the Periscope Foundation; and each of whom received their interdimensional name that day, spoken over meat, across the roast beef, the slicers' name tags read: "Yes, I am Cook, the original from Manor Shniff, immortalised in Shniff vX: The Coming of the Orb, and not her daughter. I was rotund, not so long ago, and getting on in age, with movement and breathing difficulties. Exposure to the Orb's waves while delivering Mr Shniff's meals, snacks and tea, and helping to change the drips, have sent me back in time to a time when I, as X Verexus, was brilliant and attractive, possessed of a slim figure and genius brain, a rising star in the Bubbles… bubbles… everywhere… department at Tetrahedron University, before venturing into territory that was beyond me, frankly, a study of the Vogen series of molecules recently discovered by the professors Barnes. And I became confused, started mumbling, dribbling. I fell into a coma for twenty years, was released from the Bubbles… bubbles… everywhere… department – never even taught there, apparently! according to the doctored records – before arising, retiring from academic life, turning instead to cooking to get my bubble fix, earning rave reviews for my porridge, soups, for anything which had bubbled. I opened a bubble tea café, an instant hit, with innovative flavours such as gravy with roast beef pearls. And I was no longer dribbling, but still mumbling, in a way, whenever bubbles came my way, spontaneously whispering numerical prayers which came from… somewhere. This data has been created, conveyed. My name tag now reads: COOK. Your invisible name tag reads… reads… name tag reads… meat… DO ENJOY THE BEEF."
And yes, this is so.
And yes, it did happen. Will have happened+++.
And no, non-lovers of meat, a roast beef station is no longer required to receive your interdimensional name, nor a million-credit donation to the Periscope Foundation, aka the bulging rear pocket of Zohan Pahsh's leather pants = Pahsh has promised to get me to the front of the line, yum… for the fingers… mmm…
For yes, with her consent (kinda), we hooked Cook up, downloaded her brain, placed a rubbery, artificial ear against her lips during prayer service, which she would lick, occasionally, sending numbers to the GEMINUS AI, which entered their source, condensed to a sphere, flattened to a disc, an orange dot, to be licked.
Release me… release…
Release to… what, exactly?
What, exactly, are these names for? Will we whisper them when the aliens arrive, and so be welcomed aboard their ships and invited to the first round of touching rituals? Perhaps. Will these rituals involve not only the finger, but the tongue? Maybe… Would it help, in the meantime, to present oneself as interdimensional-ready, alerting any undercover aliens, or at least, showing oneself to be part of the club, and thus one is invited to events, non-weddings, one receives discounts on alien-related things, such as entrance to the non-existent Museum of Alien History (aka leather bulge), nectar tea at Shniff Cafés, gravy tea with roast beef pearls? Almost certainly.
And so: there are woods, metals, etc to display your name. There is a rubbery material for active types. (Some say it reminds them of overcooked beef – in a good way; others: an artificial ear.) There is a crystalline material, similar to the lamp post rods, also developed from the 9-Vogen molecule. It performs a magical dump, as of Cook, from that day, of the person behind the name.
As they are.
Will have been+++.
Is it possible this extra detail will send you to the front of the line? One would think so. Are payment plans available for this crystal tag? Yes. Just close your eyes, tap your ear lobe three times (preferably while wearing leather pants). Alternatively: visit your local Shniff Store and lick a specialist's ear.
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Eleven point one years ago (note: due to the aliens' interquantum gate, this number never increases – think about it), Shniff ran what was, and remains, the most successful marketing campaign in history, opening the global mind to the existence of the beautiful, benevolent aliens who had planted the Orb on our planet, who had inspired a multigenerational leap in tech, which was about to be delivered. Whose remarkable powers, it seemed, could belong to as many as five per cent of us.
We now believe this number to be twenty times higher, that all of us are blessed with alien genetics. That all of us will fly, one day. Hooray!
Still, at the time, that heritage seemed selective.
Could it be… it…
Could it be me… let me purchase some of that craaazy new Shniff tech and see… sure, it's expensive as fuck, but fuck it! I wanna make beautiful alien love with the non-native of my dreams, yum… to come into my powers… and even if I'm not a five-per-center, fuck it! That tech is craaazy, yo! Yum! Hooray!
Our "competitors" didn't like it, but everyone else was thinking about Love, about beautiful alien love, and so: the new Shniff was born. And so: the next-next-gen+++ would be born.
And so, one day, beautiful alien babies will be born. And we will travel to the stars, to Para'meesh IV.
We will be home.
Could it be… it… is no more. It simply is. But if you'd like a reminder of those times, that excitement, why not load up on some Could it be… it… merch! We've got the usual crap. T-shirts, mugs, lovemaking facilitators, etc. And then we go +, with a mini Could it be… it… interquantum gate / pen holder / lovemaking rod holder. We go ++ with a blow-up alien "friend" ;))) with vegan lovemaking rod holster, form-fitting lab coat with Could it be… it… badge, surgical gloves with extra-long fingers, and a connected brain, so that the weather may be displayed in your friend's eyes while you… operate on each other.
And then +++! The ultimate merch. A packet of Could it be… it… seeds, to plant in your yard, a gift of trees to future generations, to make their rods, to send them back in time through the interquantum gates which will be commonplace by then, to then settle into gates. Holster up your rod!
"If only I had an authentic Could it be… it… rod to slot into your holster, my dear. Ah well… Now let's see… Well! Sunny today! At last."
"It arrives… from the so-called future. Let us begin. The lab coat is removable btw. Also: the holster. Never the gloves, however."