The telephone rang. He picked it up. Bad

The telephone rang. He picked it up. Bad news. He was clueless as to what course of action needed to be taken. He had never been exposed to such a shock before. He was paralised.

His hand gripped the phone and a current rippled across his back and down his leg through the old heater grating he was standing on. He heard the voice at the other end say, "

Hi my name is Anne, I am a robocall. The energy pulse you just received is a little reminder that we can take you down at any time. Have you thought about your credit?" He dropped.

As he hit the linoleum, his eyes flickered shut and his mind fell into a concussion-induced delirium. "Oh hello, Tom Cruise," he chuckled, "I was just about to proposition you for

another wacky crossbred religion and pyramid scheme. That had Cruise's attention. "Speak your mind earthling," he said. I said, "Have you ever thought about controlling huge amount

s of people by spouting non-scientific mumbo-jumbo at them?" Mr. Cruise stared at me in silence for a moment before promptly leaping up to break my fingers. "Well now, that seems a

fitting response to your treacherous mistruths." My hand was a bloody pulp but I wasn't done with Tom Cruise yet. I just wasn't sure where to attack. There were too many obvious

weak points, marked by glowing crystals. I knew if I struck there I might get a critical hit and defeat Tom Cruise, but this wasn't about winning or losing. I wanted to him suffer.

I wanted him to writhe in agony before me. I still remember watching Mission Impossible 2 and that scene with the white doves. His smirking midget face. My time was now. I loaded

all the cupcakes onto my quadricycle and made my deliveries. Oh, but there would be redemption. Oh, would there. Nobody makes ME see a movie starring a mediocre cultist!