The ANTI-SUBSCRIPTION

We will NEVER charge you for something you don't use. EVER. Not "until you cancel." Not "unless you forget." Not "oh, it auto-renewed, didn't you read clause 14(b)?" NEVER. Because we are not greedy bastards.

You know the feeling.

It's a Tuesday. You're scrolling your bank statement looking for something else entirely. And there it is.

$12.99. FLIXSUCKER PREMIUM ULTRA+.

You haven't opened FlixSucker since the Obama administration. You tried it for ONE weekend to watch ONE documentary about octopuses. And they have been quietly, patiently, lovingly siphoning thirteen dollars out of your life every single month ever since, like a tiny financial vampire that lives in your phone.

First comes the RAGE. The white-hot, teeth-grinding, throw-your-phone-across-the-room rage. You do the math. You wish you hadn't done the math. Four hundred and sixty-seven dollars. For octopuses. For ONE octopus documentary that you didn't even finish.

Then you try to cancel. The cancel button is hidden seven menus deep, behind a "Are you SURE? 😢" screen, a "Wait! Here's 50% off!" screen, a survey, and a chatbot named Kevin who "doesn't understand the question." Some of them make you phone a human being. During business hours. In a time zone that does not exist.

And then comes the DEPRESSION. The slow, grey realization that this is not a mistake. This is the business model. Somewhere, in a glass building, a person with a lanyard gave a PowerPoint presentation about how many people forget to cancel, and everybody in the room clapped. Your forgetfulness is their quarterly target. Your busy life is their growth strategy. You are not a customer. You are a crop, and they are harvesting you.

Every single person on Earth has felt this. Your mom has felt this. Your dentist has felt this. Somewhere a monk on a mountaintop, who owns nothing but a robe and a bowl, just found a $9.99 charge from a meditation app he tried once in 2019.

ENOUGH.

BaitBuster is the ANTI-SUBSCRIPTION. Here is the ENTIRE deal, and there is no fine print because we don't HAVE any fine print:

You pay $15. ONCE. You get a pass that works for 365 days.
When the year is up, it just... stops. That's it. That's the whole ending. No charge. No renewal. No "we've gone ahead and continued your plan for your convenience!" No surprise on your bank statement, not next month, not next year, not in a thousand years when your descendants are living on Mars.
There is nothing to cancel. There is no cancel button because there is NOTHING TO CANCEL. You cannot forget to cancel something that ends all by itself. We have made forgetting safe.
Want another year? Come back and buy one. You decide. Out loud. On purpose. With your own finger. Like a free human being.
Everything ever busted stays free forever, for you and for everybody else, whether you ever pay us another cent or not.

We never even see your card. The pass is a one-time purchase, full stop: there is no plan, no cycle, no "billing period", nothing that could ever fire again. (And we wouldn't want it to. See above re: not being greedy bastards.)

"But subscriptions are how software makes money!"

Subscriptions are how software makes money off people who stopped using it. That's the dirty little secret. The money isn't in the people who love the product. It's in the people who forgot. We'd rather earn it from people who actually want what we made, and then leave them alone.

Spread the word. Burn it all down.

We want this to sweep the planet. We want the ANTI-SUBSCRIPTION to be so normal that our grandchildren will not believe us when we tell them that companies used to charge people, every month, forever, for things they had stopped using. "Grandpa, that can't be real. That's just stealing with extra steps." YES, SWEETIE. YES IT WAS.

If you make software, steal this idea. Please. We're begging you. Put "ANTI-SUBSCRIPTION" on your pricing page and mean it. Nobody should ever again have to feel that bank-statement feeling.

Get an ANTI-SUBSCRIPTION pass — $15, once

BaitBuster · How the pass works