Okay so I was cleaning up around the apartment today, and I found this tiny scrap of paper under my couch. Must’ve been there for months and months, trapped between a surge protector and a pile of coaxial cables. Thing is, I have absolutely no recollection of writing this, why I made it, and exactly what benefit I must’ve thought duplicating the words ‘FLYING MACHINES’ would have. Upper- and lower-case, too.
So hey….tell me again why I made this?
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It’s simple, really.
You were sitting on the couch when you saw the Machines hovering out your window. You knew that They would come in through the window and take you, and with no phone nor computer near at that moment, you quickly wrote on the sheet of paper ‘FLYING MACHINES’ to provide a clue for your loved ones when they came to your apartment looking for you. In truth, you wanted to write ‘FLYING MACHINES ARE TAKING ME’ but by the time you finished the first two words you were already Their captive.
After taking you on Their machines, with the studying and the probing and the implanting and the cloning of the mysterious and grand Permenter DNA, They returned you, sleeping, to the apartment, depositing you through the window and on to said couch, but only after having given you a Memory Eraser, for obvious reasons. These Erasers take time to kick in completely, however. An hour after being returned to your couch, you awoke quickly, the experience lingering at the tip of your mind like a fading dream. In your foggy state, you picked up the paper and pen that had fallen to the floor before and quickly wrote down the image that struck you most from that dream, the FLYINg Machines. In this state, you failed to notice the words already written, and if you had, you presumably would’ve been compelled to write them down again anyhow.
After your scribbling, the Eraser-induced sleep overpowered you once more, and the paper fell from your drowsy hand and under the couch, where it would remain until today. Given that the Eraser ultimately eliminated all memories of the experience and of your attempts to capture the experience, you chuckled at the odd writings, and eventually you took a photo and shared it with your internet friends.
But that was a mistake, Jason. For in sharing this, you have given Them no choice but to take action. You’ve unwittingly started events that are beyond your control, you fool. YOU’VE DAMNED US ALL, PERMENTER, YOU HAVE DAMNED US ALL.
