Someone I know has sent me to pick up a book. However, when I arrive at the shop I realise that the book is being designed, written and created as I wait for it, and that it has not been paid for. I am not happy about this, at first, but the book-creation process is very interesting… As soon as I arrived a camera mounted in a wall display took a picture of me and began to analyse and display a version of it on a screen. Sheets of paper begin to shoot out of a printer in the centre of the room. There are chapters relating to fashions in clothing containing many drawings about the development and materials all of which has been very neatly laid out. The machine continues to generate more details based on my name, age, physical condition, and so on, showing different versions of me, none of them actually me but, rather, versions of how I may have turned out under different circumstances or having made different choices. The printing machine at the centre of the room sometimes prints very large sheets, folds them, cuts them and re-folds them into elaborate paper models and packaging. Every new component is being stacked on a growing pile of fictional data amounting to many thousands of words, diagrams, and photographs. The stack includes a drawing of an ideal person I could be, and paper templates of suits and other things that could be made for me.