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I pick up my phone and dial numbers at random. They're always the right ones. Two dial tones. One harsh buzz. Me: Hi, I'm an eldritch abomination. FBI: Sorry, this is under the CIA's purview. Me: Oh, cats? FBI: What? Me: Nobody ever understands me, not even the ones with extensive files. FBI: ... FBI: *click* Me, screaming frantically into dead phone line: THIS IS NOT A GAME! Insidious Whisper: We know. Me: Meow who's listening? Insidious Whisper: *click* Sing Along fucked around with this message at 02:12 on Mar 7, 2017 ---------------- |
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Mar 7, 2017 02:05
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| # ¿ Apr 30, 2024 08:30 |
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I lay down the phone and collapse on the couch, completely enervated. My vision fades and shadows flicker around the room. "Hang in there, they're all going to pay." say the shadows in an encouraging tone. "I know." I manage to gasp out before I, smiling, collapse into the void. ---------------- |
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Mar 7, 2017 02:09
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It's nicer here. Also, it's significantly chiller.
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Mar 7, 2017 02:13
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Space Taxi posted:My FBI lamp microphone is broken. lamp microphones fall under the purview of scientology, so just go external and ask Xenu for a refund ---------------- |
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Mar 19, 2017 04:43
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not that it does much good, Xenu always says no to refunds
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Mar 19, 2017 04:43
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