He stared up at the high-tension wires. A

He stared up at the high-tension wires. A bird landed and promptly combusted. It was all falling into place. "THAT is how they are controling my brain! THAT IS WHY

I GET THE URGE TO MURDER THE PRESIDENT WHEN I HEAR THE PHRASE, "

Change is coming." Of course I never actually murder President Obama. But Lord knows I've wanted to. I once schemed and planned to attack him when he

visited the green tech company that just opened in our city. Bunch of fuckin' tree-hugging hippies. I'd make them all pay for raising gas prices and forcing me to sell my Chevy

But i won't. However he offered 90000000 millions of money for my Chevy. I accepted the offer...

despite the fact that my Chevy was in fact an Autobot. Maybe I had risked the fate of the galaxy, but sure hell I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to

Put my Chevy into a car crusher and listen to it scream as it's entire body was crushed into a flat piece of junk metal that I could take home as a souvenir and hang it on my wall.

If I had a wall. Then the sobs came down like a fists in a gang fight. My Chevy was my home and now it's a cube of scrap metal that was sold to the

British revamp of Junkyard Wars. I wept profusely as the blue team turned my former Chevy into an all-terrain hovercraft with no steering wheel. They crashed it into

a mountain at top speed, hitting at such a speed that they were instantly vaporized into a fine mist, and I stopped crying. My faith in karma had been restored.