My Ultimate Simp System

“Women!”

Aspen Cummings exclaimed for the third time, scoffing at the skimpily-dressed women on the podcast he had been watching since evening.

With his earphones plugged in and the Wi-fi working perfectly as usual, Aspen didn’t even bother about the mess of empty pizza boxes and used tissues scattered in his tiny matchbox apartment.

The rent wasn’t due till next week, and he had plenty of instant noodles stacked in his cupboard to last another fortnight.

It being a chilly Friday night, Aspen was perfectly happy, lazing his hours away, yawning under a blanket on his messy bed.

Watching the Alpha Bros podcasts after work had become a daily routine for him after coming home from work. It was one of the only two things that kept him motivated enough to drive his truck from six to nine and deliver parcels across the city.

The pay was just enough to cover his basic living expenses, as long as he didn’t splurge on liquor and kept his online app subscription addiction to a minimum.

The second motivating factor for Aspen was his mind-boggling hentai collection, or as he called it, ‘refined adult anime for men of culture.’

Aspen was a twenty-two-year-old college dropout who, according to the normal society comprising of boring salarymen and their lonely young housewives, had no future. But that did not mean he didn’t have a goal.

Despite being kicked out of his parents’ house and ridiculed by his old schoolmates, he firmly believed he was going to make it big in the world someday. And the online finance gurus had convinced him that all it would take was finding the right cryptocurrency and going all in.

However, until his luck turned around and he finally hit the digital jackpot, Aspen was stuck in the daily grind, with no way out of his pathetic life.

As the podcast ended with a heavy dose of moral judgment, Aspen hit the like button and scrolled down to find the only social media app on his phone.

Logging in, he immediately landed on a video of a woman failing to change a tire while her female bestie was repeatedly pumping petrol into her diesel car.

Rolling his eyes in disgust, Aspen tapped the comments section and hurriedly typed out his highly valued opinion:

This is what happens when you choose the bear.

Better go back to the kitchen!

As Aspen tapped the post button, a heavy burden seemed to lift off his shoulders as he felt he had just shown those useless women their true place.

This little victory was enough to make his already miserable life meaningful in all the wrong ways.

Exhausted, he rolled on his bed, looking inadvertently to his right.

“It’s too cold, or I’d be hitting reps left and right,” he yawned, staring at the untouched weights and skipping ropes lying in a dark corner of his room.

“I will focus on myself from tomorrow and stop eating junk food and start reading more books. I am going to turn my life around and become the top one percent!” he swore, as he had sworn for the last seventeen weeks.

Suddenly, a thought flashed in Aspen’s mind, and he frowned in revulsion.

“The women have it a lot easier, I swear! You could just open a Lonely Pans account and flaunt your assets in front of the camera for views,” he muttered. “And those 304s are earning in millions while we slave away, grinding the soles of our boots for a few hundred dollars per week. It’s totally biased!”

Aspen was about to go live and rant about the simps ruining society when his work phone buzzed on the table.

He put his smartphone down and picked up the old brick with the buttoned keypad. It was one of his only friends, Bill Dickinson, on the line.

“Why do I hear traffic? What the hell are you still doing outside on a Friday night? Partying without me?” Aspen asked, paying close attention to the honking and shouting in the background over which Bill’s voice floated like the buzz of an annoyed bee.

“We both know I don’t make enough to party on the weekend. I’m still making deliveries! Or at least I was!”

Aspen let out a sigh and clicked his tongue in mock pity. “Poor Bill. Always working extra hours to save money and then dumping it straight into the bank. You should try investing in—”

“I don’t need your bull crap lecture about crypto and stocks again!” Bill flared up like an angry viper. “I need your help, man. My truck’s engine just died, and I’m stuck in here!”

“Do I sound like a mechanic to you?” Aspen snapped back. “Fix your own damn truck. Don’t drag me into this crap!”

“I freaking don’t need you to fix it. Just help me finish my last delivery!” Bill yelled.

Aspen broke off into a chuckle at this ludicrous request.

“You want me to get up from my cozy bed, walk through the snow, and drive my truck in this freaking witch’s tit-chilling weather just to help you complete your delivery? Are you drunk or just high?”

“Screw you, bro!” Bill cursed. “I am not asking you to do this for free. I’ll pay you half!”

“I don’t need the money.”

“Alright, fine! I will pay you the full amount. Just complete the delivery!” Bill yelled again, louder this time. “Please help me, bro. I’m going to get fired if I don’t drop this package off. It’s a Super Prime delivery.”

Although Aspen couldn't care less about Bill being fired, the chance to make some extra cash got him curious.

“How much?” he asked.

“Twenty dollars in commission and thirty from tips,” came the reply from the other end.

And that was enough for Aspen to spray on some deodorant and dive into his old pile of unwashed clothes lying on the chair.

Putting on his jacket and shoes, he stepped out into the cold and climbed into his box truck.

“Are you coming?” Bill asked again.

“Of course, I am. A friend in need is a friend indeed,” Aspen replied. “Where the hell are you?”

“Just two blocks away from your house.”

Aspen quickly drove to the location and took the package, a 72-inch smart TV, from Bill’s hands. Pushing it into the storage bay of his truck, he took the cash from his friend and waved him off.

“What’s the address again?” he asked, staring at the side view mirror.

“It was literally on the box!” Bill exclaimed. “Forget it! I’ll share the location. Just follow the damn GPS.”

“Adios!”

Aspen drove off into the night, pushing through the light cover of snow and sleet as the chilly winds fogged up his windshield.

This was the first time he had taken a delivery job so late at night, and he wondered if he’d be able to make it in time for his morning shift tomorrow. Still, the crisp dollar bills in his pockets propelled him through the bad weather, dispelling his anxious thoughts.

He was still looking at the map on his phone when he caught something from the corner of his eye. A lady was trying to cross the road while pushing her baby in the stroller.

“Hey! Get out of the way, you moron!” Aspen yelled, but she was too drunk to pay attention.

Honk!

“You stupid bitch!”

When even the horn didn’t work, Aspen begrudgingly pressed the brakes. But the truck continued rumbling ahead, its cold tires slipping and sliding through the snow.

“No! No! No!”

Just as the lady looked up like a deer caught in the headlights, Aspen turned the steering wheel sharply.

Shriek!

The truck veered to the left before sliding off the road and crashing into an old tree trunk.

The accident slammed Aspen against the steering wheel, his head splitting open like a ripe pumpkin as the absent airbags failed to deploy.

With blood trickling down his face, Aspen tried to reach for his cellphone to call for help, but his vision soon turned blurry, and a wave of dizziness washed over his body.

Mustering the last ounce of strength he had left, he parted his lips slightly as he heard the sirens blaring in the distance.

His lips curled down into a frown, and he held up his coffee flask with his bloodstained hands.

“Women…” he muttered with his dying breath.