08-18-2017, 06:11 PM
"Chronic dry eye is the scourge of our times, for the reality you know can only remain real so long as you do not blink.
Good evening, listeners, and welcome... to..." [Mumbling static.]
"There has been a lot of talk around our community as of late about Darklings. There are some who are worried about the corruption of our children, a noticeable rise in taxes, and the inevitable sundering of all life in the Omniverse as we know it. Well, I don't know about you guys, but I, for one, welcome this last phase of our existence.
And I'm not the only one.
'I've been working 7-11 all week,' one of our listeners called in to report, a complete and utter dearth of enthusiasm croaking through the buzzing electrical device on my desk. 'If these dark-whatevers are going to end it all, might as well be now. I'm donating my organs to science, anyway.'
If you're listening now, dear caller, please remember to consult the City Council before associating with scientists. The City Council always has first dibs.
Always.
We received a compactly-folded and mysterious envelope today. It smells faintly of sulfur and toxic chemicals. I found it tucked inside the cushion of my desk chair. The cushion seam had been cut and stitched back until it looked like new to conceal the envelope, but I found it. Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't.
Remember, listeners, if your place of work does not have a strict policy on always checking the insides of your chair cushions for compactly-folded and mysterious envelopes, be sure to contact the Sheriff's Secret Police. They'll take care of it for you.
The envelope contained a message from our sponsors. I will read it now.
Read the manual. The manual holds the answers to the questions you have been asking. The questions you always ask, the ones you have asked so much that you have ceased questioning them. The questions you forget about after walking into a room, standing numb and afraid in the dark, suddenly lacking any memory of why you came in.
Do not be afraid. The manual is there for you.
It will always... be there... for you.
This message has been brought to you by IKEA.
Another report about the thing you've all been waiting with baited breath to hear more about. Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. Listen.
. . .
. .
.
It is an exorcism of ash and fire. The thundering of drums will not cease. There is red caking the earth; it is a sacrament. Obsidian cackling hangs heavy as smoke in the air, a galactic menace that cannot be shaken out from your ears. The demon unhinges his serrated maw and laughs.
And now, the weather."
"Goodnight, listeners. Goodnight."
Good evening, listeners, and welcome... to..." [Mumbling static.]
"There has been a lot of talk around our community as of late about Darklings. There are some who are worried about the corruption of our children, a noticeable rise in taxes, and the inevitable sundering of all life in the Omniverse as we know it. Well, I don't know about you guys, but I, for one, welcome this last phase of our existence.
And I'm not the only one.
'I've been working 7-11 all week,' one of our listeners called in to report, a complete and utter dearth of enthusiasm croaking through the buzzing electrical device on my desk. 'If these dark-whatevers are going to end it all, might as well be now. I'm donating my organs to science, anyway.'
If you're listening now, dear caller, please remember to consult the City Council before associating with scientists. The City Council always has first dibs.
Always.
We received a compactly-folded and mysterious envelope today. It smells faintly of sulfur and toxic chemicals. I found it tucked inside the cushion of my desk chair. The cushion seam had been cut and stitched back until it looked like new to conceal the envelope, but I found it. Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't.
Remember, listeners, if your place of work does not have a strict policy on always checking the insides of your chair cushions for compactly-folded and mysterious envelopes, be sure to contact the Sheriff's Secret Police. They'll take care of it for you.
The envelope contained a message from our sponsors. I will read it now.
Read the manual. The manual holds the answers to the questions you have been asking. The questions you always ask, the ones you have asked so much that you have ceased questioning them. The questions you forget about after walking into a room, standing numb and afraid in the dark, suddenly lacking any memory of why you came in.
Do not be afraid. The manual is there for you.
It will always... be there... for you.
This message has been brought to you by IKEA.
Another report about the thing you've all been waiting with baited breath to hear more about. Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. Listen.
. . .
. .
.
It is an exorcism of ash and fire. The thundering of drums will not cease. There is red caking the earth; it is a sacrament. Obsidian cackling hangs heavy as smoke in the air, a galactic menace that cannot be shaken out from your ears. The demon unhinges his serrated maw and laughs.
And now, the weather."
Quote:"Dancing In The Dark" - Cannonball Adderley.
"Goodnight, listeners. Goodnight."
New to the Omniverse? Don't be afraid to PM me for assistance!
Gamzee Makara Wrote:S’aight. After all, dogs have a tendency to motherfuckin’ bite.