Comm ID: Brakelatabasaasta
Transmit to: Brakelatabasaasta
Listen up, small ones! It's story time again. So sit down and listen while I finish pulling bits of plastic out of my ear-holes.
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There will be a time of great greatness, the greatness of which shall be dwarfed only by its redness, because it will have a rash. In this time of red greatness, a guy will come along. On a beach. And on that beach there will be a tiny dude. And on that tiny dude will be a great, dark spire that will reach to the sky! It'll be like, 500 feet tall, at least. And the tiny dude will fall to his knees from the weight of the tall dark spire. Because it's going to be heavy.
So the other guy, the one who will have just come along, shall go up to the tiny dude. And to the tiny dude, he shall speak: "O, tiny dude that doth bear the great, red weight of thy spire, tell me the secrets of the answers!"
Yet, as many a moment will pass, the guy will recieve no answer from the tiny dude. Angered by the silence of the great redness, the guy shall kick the tiny dude in his stomach and move along the beach. And the tiny dude will probably fall and get crushed by the spire. In any case, he's gonna die.
And so, the guy will continue walking. In his travels, he will come upon a door. This door will stand freely on the beach, as it will not be set in any wall, and shall seem to lead nowhere. "A-ha!" the guy will exclaim. "This door will surely lead me to the secrets of the answers! It's just the sort of plot device that I need!" With pride in his heart, and jellybeans in his navel, the guy will push firmly on the door, which will swing open for him. A bright brightness shall erupt from the door's frame, and it will envelope the guy in its blinding light.
In a single step, the guy shall pass though the door-frame. And yet, he will find himself right back on the same beach. "How strange," the guy will wonder aloud. "I was at least expecting that thing to put me in some weird version of New York, like in Drawing of the Three." The guy will turn to take another look at the door, but it will have turned into a bright red fish. So there's the source of this Great Redness, the guy will think. Without another moment's consideration, the guy shall pick up the fish and eat it. Then he will fall asleep for a hundred years.
The guy's name will be Charles.
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In other news, a man called Arthur is holding a book. Arthur stands in a black void of black voidness, far from any sources of greatness or redness. Arthur opens his book and begins to read aloud: "Kam tre'dovah kenen Moht?" He asks. At this moment, a helicopter appears and starts pouring an endless stream of orange juice on Arthurs head. The helicopter is not named Harold.
Arthur drops his book and signals to the helicopter with both hands. He tells the helicopter to leave, because it's cramping his considerable style. Not-Harold complies, leaving Arthur alone once again, in his black void that is neither great nor red.
After a moment of consideration, Arthur retrieves his book and reads another passage aloud: "Lenah biv kenen tenesh ehrthbantee meh keelentee." Immediately, a shaft of light illuminates a single spiral staircase. Arthur, knowing where the stairs will take him, begins his ascent. It will take Arthur several hours to reach his destination. Let's check back on him later.
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MEANWHILE, in a big city somewhere, ROBOTS were happening! You see, the robots were like cops, and they were chasing some lawbreaker guy though the back alleys, and there was all sorts of action going on! Get this: There was this one part of the chase where the lawbreaker--whose name was Ted or something--hopped into one of those future transport tubes, and a robot followed him, and it was like a high-speed tube chase! And Ted started shooting at the robot while they were inside the tube, and the robot shot lasers and energy-disks, and there were all sorts of high-speed twists and turns... aw, man, you should have seen it! Ooh! And there was this one part where they were in a house of mirrors, and it was all spooky, like "Where's he coming from?" and "Which ones are real?" but it turns out they were all real, and the robots started attacking with their chainsaw-hands, but Ted had a sword, and it was all "Clang! Clang! Punch-kick-SHING!" And don't even get me started on the scene where Ted's fighting the robots while falling from a cliff! Dang, why weren't you watching when all this happened?
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And so we reach the part of our story that talks about real things. Little things. Like taking money from machines. Sometimes we own the zeroes, and sometimes we own the ones. And on the rarest occasions, we find a ten dollar bill in our pocket.
But that's not here. It's there. And if it knows what's good for it, it will stay there. You see small ones, this is about something that falls into the category of Time. Time, which may primarily be considered a category only by those who use Venn diagrams for everything, is not there. It's here, and will continue to be even after Charles, Ted, and Arthur are not. Time will slow the Hand of Shadow, but it will slow all else as well.
At the other end of this spectrum--if such can be considered a spectrum--is Life. Life is there, ready to be used only by those who are destined to use it. Life is temporary, as the waters that surround it slowly erode its surface. And yet, once the greatest sacrifice is made, Life will choose another, and continue its journey toward a distant but shattered planet. It is perhaps the greatest of gifts, but it is easily the most dangerous, as well.
And standing alone, with none to offer it aid, is Creation. Unlike Life and Time, it is truly neither here nor there, as it was never given a Name. We only know it to exist, and we believe it to be greenish in nature, whereas Time is orange and Life is golden. Creation cannot outdo either Life or Time, and remains underappreciated. Yet the being that weilds Creation may be the last hope in restoring order to this universe.
And this leaves us here, in this strange alternate version of New York, as described in Drawing of the Three. Over there we can see Arthur emerging from the manhole, squinting in the sunlight, book still in hand. As he places his left foot on the curb to bring himself level with the street, a robot shoots him with several laser beams. Arthur turns into a pile of ash, and the Great Redness descends on this world. Perhaps, this time, some will be spared.
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If you sought meaning in the above stories, then you and you alone are what is wrong with this world.
If you found meaning in the above statement, then you should probably stop taking things so seriously.
If you found nothing here at all, then I commend you.
![[Image: Zukeenee2.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/cMA8ubJ.png)