People of the Earth:
I am Vizzthurg, the Vice General of the Octorian Fifth Column, and I address you for a second time.
My second-in-command informs me that of the 7 Billion of you, only four billion happened to tune in to Writing About Writing yesterday. I guess since Chris said he was going on vacation, you didn't feel like it was actually necessary to check in, but I assure you that this is not the case. The situation is, in fact of...
Hang on people of Earth. I'm getting a urgent comunique here...
Yeah. This is... No this is a really bad time. No I don't care how urgent you think it is. I'm right in the middle of my world leaders surrender speech. I've been working on it for three years. OH MY GOD! Fine. What is so fucking important that it can't wait until I call upon Earth to surrender.
Yeah, that's what I said. Only four billion people read Writing About Writing yesterday.
Four people read this blog?
Four? You're not missing some zeros--like nine or ten zeros?
That's IT???? Four?
How the hell are we supposed to issue a demand for world surrender from a blog that only four people actually read? I thought this was some major facility. They were doing time dilation experiments that opened up our phase dimension for fuck's sake. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this IS the place that made first contact right?
And then sent us those series of totally pretentious blog articles, practically challenging--nay begging--us to come into their time phase and expunge such crap from the universe?
And then sent an androgynous super soldier elf dude named pLink BACK through the phase shift who has killed like thirty thousand Octorians in our home plane, and somehow pulled the hearts of his dead enemies out of their chest cavities and used them to give himself spontaneous regeneration?
And then managed to hire the A-Team for an extended contract?
And are currently working on making bacon come through the internet?
But they only have four readers?
Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with this planet? I am so going to kill them all. I'm going to genocide this whole species...right in their faces!
Wh-what? Of course I know genocide isn't a verb. You knew what I meant though--
Oh my god! It's this place. It's corrupting us. We have to get out of here.
No, just leave it. Forget it just turn that off. Just turn it OFF. Just turn it--
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