No Pitchfork Emoji

[Scene: Outside the Unicode Headquarters – A stormy, overcast afternoon]

(A crowd of about 50 furious villagers, townsfolk, and terminally online Twitter users stand outside the tall, glass-walled Unicode office. They hold makeshift pitchforks – actual forks duct-taped to broomsticks, rusty gardening tools, and one guy with a trident he clearly stole from a seafood restaurant. They chant with righteous fury.)

Crowd (shouting in unison):
“What do we want? PITCHFORKS!
When do we want 'em? YESTERDAY!”

(The front doors slide open with a soft "ding." The chanting stops as Glen, a mild-mannered, bespectacled Unicode representative in a cardigan, steps out holding a clipboard.)

Glen (cheerful, chipper tone):
“Hello, everyone! Welcome to Unicode HQ. Are you here for the pitchfork emoji? We’ve been expecting you!”

Crowd (stunned silence, confused glances exchanged)

Karen (waving a rusty rake, squinting suspiciously):
“Wait… what? You knew we were coming?”

Glen (nodding earnestly):
“Of course! We monitor social sentiment, and we noticed a sharp spike in the ‘WHERE’S MY PITCHFORK EMOJI?’ discourse online. Frankly, we couldn’t agree more. Come inside, we’re workshopping a few designs right now.”

(The crowd looks at each other, flabbergasted. Murmuring begins.)

Steve (holding a mop with knives taped to it):
“Is… is this a trap? It feels like a trap.”

Karen (still suspicious):
“Yeah, this is too easy. Corporate never just agrees with us.”

Glen (smiling warmly):
“Look, I get it. Corporations have trained you to expect resistance, gaslighting, and condescension. But this is Unicode. Our whole job is to give people more ways to express themselves, and you clearly want to express mob justice energy. And we respect that. So come on in, we’ve got coffee, snacks, and a live design session happening right now!”

(The murmuring grows louder. Doubt and rage slowly give way to cautious curiosity.)

Chad (holding two sporks menacingly):
“... Do you have oat milk?”

Glen (gesturing inside, grinning wide):
“Friend, we’ve got oat, almond, soy, macadamia, hemp, and milk made from, I kid you not, potatoes. Get in here.”

(The doors slide open wider. The mob slowly files in, muttering “Huh” and “Didn’t expect that” and “I do like macadamia milk.”)

INT. UNICODE OFFICE – DESIGN ROOM

(The crowd stares in awe. The walls are covered in giant concept sketches of pitchfork emojis:

A sleek, minimalist pitchfork.
A gnarly, rusted, "angry mob" pitchfork.
A farm-accurate, four-pronged pitchfork.
A chibi, cutesy pitchfork with googly eyes.)

Glen (gesturing to the sketches):
“Alright, here’s where we need your help. Do you want ‘angry mob pitchfork,’ ‘farmer pitchfork,’ or something else entirely? We’re thinking multiple variants. Also, do you prefer three prongs or four?”

(The crowd is thunderstruck. For the first time, they feel heard.)

Karen (voice trembling with emotion):
“... Three prongs. Three prongs just feels right.”

Steve (tearing up, gripping his mop-knife hybrid):
“Three’s classic. It’s symbolic. It’s justice.”

Glen (nodding solemnly):
“Three it is. Three it is.”

(The crowd erupts into cheers. Glen passes out sketch pads so people can submit their own designs. Someone starts making a TikTok about it. In the corner, Chad is crying softly into his oat milk.)

Chad (sobbing, voice cracking):
“I’ve never felt seen before.”

Karen (patting his back, tears in her eyes):
“I know, brother. I know.”

[Fade to black]

TEXT ON SCREEN:
"The Pitchfork Emoji was approved in Unicode version 16.1. Sometimes, revolution isn't about rage — it's about oat milk, empathy, and three-pronged justice."

Other Conversational Dialogues