One last email before we go
Dear poonface, whatever that means, but you seem to believe it is the ultimate insult. I hope you are at home and happy. I hope the roof over your face is strong. I hope the ceiling separating you from your staunch roof is decorated with plaster roses or geometric patterns, and the single light hangs from a cord extending like an infinite stamen from a circular motif symbolising the sun, the one true source of all energy and light upon this earth. Notice the lowercase e in earth and the use of the determiner this. I am not implying that our planet is one among many earths, I am declaiming it and to you I am revealing it as a truth. Thus my hopes for your strong roof. Not that any roof could be made strong enough for what will presently occur, which is the collision of this earth, our earth, with their earth. Their earth is careening through time, space and interdimensionalities because their scientists tapped a power they misunderstood. The scientists are now dead as is everyone else on their earth, along with the animals, the plants and just everything. We, too, will all die shortly. Only a few know this. I am telling you because I hate you and it makes me happy to tell you. I am so happy that you will die young and scared and unmourned. This will make my own death and the end of clever, foolish, beautiful, earnest humanity easier to face. Just wanted to get that off my chest. We’re all about to lose, but, as you watch the concussion wave race towards you as their still accelerating planet comes into contact with our atmosphere, I hope you have time to remember that in the end I won, you petty fucking asshole shit dick fuck fuck.