Sunday, January 5, 2014
A step in the right direction, or "How I stopped worrying and learned to love the bomb we are building to kill the sun."
Are you really, fully comprehending what I'm showing you? Are you actually legitimately digging this fucking scene? This is it. It's over now. Pack your shit and go home. The schematics are in.
THE GODDAMN SCHEMATICS ARE IN.
It's all set now. All this time, all the hard work, this is where it pays off. We got the Satantron back up and running. The Lunar Intelligence has re-established contact, Project: Theta grew all those limbs back, and Legal says we'll beat that class action lawsuit because the label clearly stated "May contain ground up glass/parasites from beyond the inky black sea of stars". So many of us wondered if we'd ever really get that gateway between this world and the plane of ceaseless screaming nightmares that the Accounting department calls home. I am here to tell you that not only have we torn the thin membrane separating these two cursed lands, we have done so and erected a theme park on the diseased land marking this border that is both tasteful and highly erotic! We will send a thousand jet-black bats screaming into the night for all of eternity, and each one will drop a payload of funnel cake and free ride tokens until the land undulates with the squirming shape of generations of humanity buried beneath a luxurious carpet of powdered sugar and tilt-a-whirl passes! Ia, ia!
Yours truly, Sen. T.V. Hornswaggle XIII, Phd, Dds, Esq, Etc.
P.S.: There's an apparition of some sort in the executive washroom. My best guess is it just likes to watch us use the restroom, as it doesn't seem to have harmed anyone, and certainly sounds like it's masturbating. For now, just leave it be and we'll alert HR if it becomes weird in a way that is neither arousing nor profitable.