Listen to me. Don't take your eyes from this

Listen to me. Don't take your eyes from this window. They're right behind you no- ah! I said don't look! That was close. You have to listen carefully. Look past my head. Do you see

that window over there? There's a message waiting on the sill for you underneath that houseplant. Be inconspicuous; you don't want them to know that you're in on this with me.

Yes, under the houseplant. No, not that one. Over... Over... That's it, the flytrap!" The Fly was really stupid for a supra-intelligent scientist type. As he reached for the non-

Manifliable drone, he injected Positron into the drone's brain. The drone flew for 3.2 seconds before crashing on the polyurethane floor into 6,279,474 pieces. Its owner, Sir John,

was a savant and quickly counted the 6,279,474 pieces, but reported one less to the exchancellor. The pig piece was for him. The other drones began droning and the bagpipes began

"Where are you hiding, you little monster," hissed the ex chancellor. "I asked for a BOAR," he screamed. His eyes bulged out like the song of a bagpipe hiding a piece

of lit dynamite before he clutched his heart and fell to the floor, stone dead. The ex chancellor was now an ex-ex-chancellor. The little monster knew he would be accused, and ran

Into a Wax Tailor music video to give the keys into the hands of a man of no action. Keys that useless without a lock. Understanding is here but not this here, that here over here.

We need those keys to open up the admin's home to check if he or she has succumbed to COVID. The site composition was falling apart, bugged folds were showing here and there, and

logging in was unsafe. A key was found, and we warily entered. What we saw inside would scare the shit out of Poe: The admin sat on the floor slobbering and folding…origami cranes!