"and this is the Shack. Purposely disguised

"and this is the Shack. Purposely disguised as a storeroom, this holy place hosts the many forbidden midnight parties and events ," he said, throwing the door open with a flourish.

The inside of 'the shack' nightclub was incredible. There were holes worn in the floor from all the hard partying and the stage was made of rubber for increased

bounciness. The gogo dancers would really be gogoing! There was a faint layer of smoke in the air and I briefly wondered at the violation of anti-smoking laws, but I realized I

was less concerned about long term health issues than gogoing to go see the gogo dancers. And this, I believe, is the fundamental pont of this little tale I am telling you.

And now that I have made my point, I guess I'm done. Another few lines to fill in and we're all set. Story complete. Point made. Everyone happy. I really don't have anything else.

This story is officially over, finito. It has ceased to be! ... What are you still doing here? I've nothing to add. That ending was so sublime. Let's not muck it up with a dangling

thread of pointless, space-filling words. Really! Leave! Go away! We're done! I've no more to say to you, or anyone else, for that matter. Look, I appreciate your need for closure,

but you're fired! Gone! Zip! Your stuff. Box. Door. Parking lot. Car. Goodbye!" Cave Johnson then turned his attention to the test subject, who was still bouncing around in the goo

slowly pointed the gun towards Caroline's face. "No baby, " his voice changed in a way that could mean only one thing " we've done enough evil to them. Time to pay our dues."