There were dramatic gestures during this conversation. pLink even grabbed my lapel at one point and said "You can't handle the truth!"
pLink thinks we've probably bought ourselves a month or so before a full on invasion by sending the nuclear warhead back to their dimension. After that, he thinks Writing About Writing will act as a doorway for untold legions that will swarm over Earth and kill all of humanity.
Which, you know...blows.
I feel somewhat responsible for the fate of humanity--seeing as it was my writing in the first place that so enraged their sense of pretentiousness that they felt compelled to destroy the entire human race. Sorry about that.
Anyway, I'm not sure if anything is to be done, but I decided that at the very least I could put pLink in charge of the newly reinstated R&D department. Their efforts to make bacon come through the internet have met with little success, and it will hardly matter anyway if we're all dead. Maybe they can come up with something.