CHAPTER 1

Im a reclusive auteurI mean how do you spell that? Oh yeah,

right Please allow me to reintroduce myself. Im a reclusive
author who has merged with his words, late in his life, subtlety and
quietly becoming a connoisseur of governance. Cha Cha Diva,
well, thats the name I was born with, when I was born in a bubble
bath. Before my first and only book came out, they used to call me
the Whipping Boy, because I was shared by my masters. Now its
just Cha Cha Diva, sometimes Diva-Bear for short.
My book, now considered by many in the underground to be a
definitive cult masterwork, was entitled THE YOUNGBLOOD
ASCENDANCY, for it probed at great lengths into the concept of
what a new resource based economy could to do to squelch the
clandestine organization of, I forgot what I was saying. And I used
to stand on the catwalks of the book factory and pour buckets of
black ink all over the books while they were being published, so it
would be personalized and seem more collectible.
But those were the good old days. Now I live in a log cabin! The
inside of my home is mostly decorated with my folk art, which I
would describe as me scratching my nails into the wooden walls
and furniture. And underneath the first layer of my house is candy.
The whole house was originally made of candy. Its so cute and
plus I have a sweet tooth so it all makes sense. When I die I want
to be eating lots of sweets.

Theres a dentist coming over to the house today. Dentist Lazarus

Everly. He always sweet talks me, and swears I have a delightful
smile, but he kinda freaks me out a little. Last time he paid me a
visit, he fidgeted with my pearl necklace for over an hour and then
dangled it into my mouth. He twirled his finger around the
necklace in my mouth for the longest hour of my life. Then
dropped some gross metal necklaces in as well. Ive been meaning
to get rid of that disgusting jewelery, but I keep forgetting because
Ive been so busy.
That experience with the dentist was especially niggling since his
elbows have little bells on the them. Yeah, thats right both his
elbows are pierced and have little bells attached. On second
thought, maybe I will just ditch the dentist today. Time to leave
the house, Id say.
So a while ago I got this fan letter from this art band from
Camden, New Jersey. They said they had gotten really inspired by
my teachings and would like to meet me in person someday. I got
to thinking that Id also like to meet these fellows, since they
actually appreciate the full breadth of my work. Most of the
people in this world are just too blind to see, too self centered to
believe that the world they live in is a world of lies. These poor
people just need a jolt of the truth and that is just what Id give
them if they would just wake themselves up out of enslavement
and learn my book. I guess my book will always be considered a
cult phenomenon, too far ahead of its time.

Since I am going out in public in the city I have to dress

accordingly. No more pajamas. Civilian clothes. I choose to take a
GunkTech / hipster crust punk angle, and (first things first) start by
taking apart my old CaseLogic CD book and hotgluing the page
sleeves with album art onto my clothes so that people know what
Im like. Next I deepfry my dreadlock. It looks dazzling so Im
ready to go.
My cabin is located near the bog by the abandoned nuclear power
plant, so the ecology is all radioactive. Sometimes I will lay in the
brown haze on moldy rocks and think about days bygone in the
storming scene, it was all too surreal to even describe. Times have
changed, things are so tame these days. You wont understand, its
generational.
Anyways, my journey to New Jersey begins with me leaving my
house, and Im also me leaving my door open so who knows. My
journey begins with me river wading through cloudy, greay
chocomute-hued waterbut it quickly gets too interrupted by all
this trash. My journey begins with, uh I forgot what I was saying, I
was interrupted. Oh yeah, Im never minded by blindspots so I
gotta focus on moving forward to (as we were, as we were)
moving forward to where Im going to-- but Im distracted. All the
presentation on the trash is very disorienting, graphics that are
intentionally trying to divert me through their live interactive
occurence. The labels are lively and distorted, shapeshifting their
figures and letters into knotty paste. Its likeable because of all the
dddd repetition wording that that they use to flirt with your

travelers taste tongue and its reactive graphic design thats

literally soaring o the packaging and bringing you back to the
womb, sucking on the baby bottle. I try to wrangle it back to the
retro orientation marker that was created on all production design
of the early 00s but the fonts wont participate right with my
hands. In fact they start to chingle-fight with my hands, angering
and enraging me (Im a very aggressive person).
The nearby amphibians and slugs resting on logs are getting really
confused watching me manipulate their habitat, so I let the slugs
eatfuck my fist. With the amphibians, I am trying to get a reptilian
slant for use in my calligraphy wrist curls and I went back to that.
Gotta start studying the logo wraps on that trash for my new more
informed, more aggressive grati stylings. The inside of these
labels have security directives (that prevent me from going back
into fighting them) that fill themselves with dierent varieties of
smogslike surveillance smoglets.
After playing in the labels (actually it was more like grad school for
Cool Hunters), I punctured an escape route back to the bog, and
started sculpting the dramatic vectors out of the bark on the side
of a swamp tree, forming these wonderful little riblets, more like
award winning contemporary graphic design experiments. I am
getting more and more clever by the minute, and all I am doing
was standing clammy in the bog. I crawl all around this landscape
for a few hours and begin to notice little wireless receivers
growing everywhere o all the plants and animals. Theres a
muted hum coming from underneath everything, like there is an

underlying subtext beneath everything.

I perchance to ask the hum whats it fors, and why there are
receivers are. It tells me in a buzzy voice that the receivers are
energy receptors that are connected wirelessly to the abandoned
nuclear power plant.
Its the sound of energy thats completely wireless, my friend.
Then why, I ask, is the power plant abandoned?
Its abandoned looking in order to deceive you into thinking that
this place is toxic, and will mutate you, but it wont because, the
humming energy says, the land is o limits.
Why is the land o limits?
You will find out if you break into the power plant.
Yeah, alright, I, I say,get it.
CHAPTER 2
So I crawled up towards the King Castle on the Hill style nuclear
power plant. Yeah, smash a hole in the wall with the buildings
motion sensor, it automatically detonates the wall like a sliding
door in the grocer. I definitely get it. Somebody wants me to be
here

Now Im in yeah, its my kind of place. Everywhere everything

surrounding me is corroded & crusted, dusty & dingy. I find that
yellow plasma bubbles have popped all over everything and
dribbled down the wall. I take a taste. Its duck sauce, go figure.
The big power generator is operational with the wireless energy
relay outputer signal flashing ON. The humming sound was
utterly correct. This place is weird and suspicious. There are X
rays of teeth everywhere. Above me theres a laser cut wooden
sign that says Dentists Chambers. It must be a private
workstation for my Dentist. Oh no, hes going to think Im
impinging on his space, trying to stalk him or something. My heart
always starts to race when Im around Dentist Everly. I hide under
an enormous tarp in a dierent room just as I see him walking in
through the collapsed doorway.
Whose the rat whos been wandering through my home?!! Hes a
huge hothead, mad as hell, putzing around looking for a clue. He
sees my teeth marks on the duck sauce, and screams, Where the
fuck are you, Cha Cha?!! Im going to killfuck you! I hate you Diva
Bear! Why werent you there at the house?! I had all my supplies
that I was going to use on you! Unleash the Youngbloods!
He was always bragging to me about this aristocracy of vampires
called the Youngbloods that he had as clients. He also had a little
tooth fairy apprentice working for him that buzzed around his
fingers while he worked.

Apparently, theres great new book out about the little secret
world of tooth fairies called What-the-Dickens: The Story of a
Rogue Tooth Fairy. Have you ever heard of a little musical called
Wicked?? Duh of course you have. (If you havent then youve
been living under a pillow for the past couple of years.) Well its
fun and its from the author of that play, George MaGuire.
Anyways, if he had these vampires as clients, then why would he
be ordering them around? Do these vampires like to be told what
to do? The answer is apparently a resounding YES! There is a
rampant young group of privileged, overly spoiled vampire princes
that like to run around and get whipped and drilled real hard,
controlled by Dentist Everly (its what you might call a master-slave
relationship). What do these vampires look like? Well, Im glad you
asked. Lots of ornate plastic surgery. Lots of stretch marks.
Naked, wild. Very dramatic. Very angular. Very chi-chi. They stu
royal heirlooms under their stretched skin and in between their
organs, as not to flaunt it. The best way to describe them would be
to take everything you know about a traditional vampire (like say,
Nosferatu or Dracula) and throw that in the fire. I mean these
modern day Youngbloods are completely transforming the whole
notion of what it means to be a vampire on the world stage. You
may think they look like feral scamps, but these are cultured and
refined members of an elite nobility.
The vampires dash into action, sniveling their way through the
tarp, they are right on my trail. I take o my clothing so they cant

tell who Im being.

The tarp literally feels like its everlasting, even with these immortal
vampire predators coming at me from all angles. Its a tarp thats
approximately 600 square yards which has been bunched into a
room thats only 200 square yards (with ceilings as high as a large
gym). It is most likely used as a way to cover up all the psycho
sexual experimentation that goes on in this building.
The tarp makes it so its insanely hot and dim in here. Im running
away as fast as I can from these chasers. Sweating like a hound
dog, I quickly approach a glowing light thats being emitted far in
front of me. The light is coming from work lights (like those used
on construction sites) that are set to shine on a few kinky
Youngbloods blowing glass into a large sphere around their peers
getting involved in seriously one of the most deranged sexual
activities I have ever seen. They are painted golden and doing
rituals comparable to flaminco belly dancing, and having sex with
bloody roses. Lots of straps, the whole nobility is imitating each
others faces and moaning like one another.
I wink at them and they blow a kiss back at me? Yeah right!.
More like I wink at them and try to run away, but they blow glass
around me. I look below and forget what I was going to say, then
see under the glass bottom a dark hole full of passed out
strangers. I look up and its Lazarus Everly. A vampire brings him a
daiquiri, then fondles him in a very submissive way. Im starting to

get the feeling that Dentist Everly has been brainwashing the
Youngblood princes into thinking that they are allowed one bite of
his patients after he anesthetizes them in exchange for his sexual
enslavement over them.
The glass ball fills with laughing gas and morphs inside out so that
a large tube goes into my mouth and down my throat, filling my
stomach and my body starts to metabolize the hot glass as it
shapes itself into heirlooms of the Youngblood nobility.
Anyways, I pass out and wake up with this dummy staring at my
teeth, waking up with the Dentists eyeball literally in my mouth,
checking to see how many glass heirlooms I formed. Luckily for me
this process does not turn me into a vampire.
Alls fair in love and war. Do you intend to cooperate with me,
Baby Bear?
Im not a BABY!!!! I scream! I hate it when they call me a baby,
Im a retired 50 year old writer.
We keep trying to molest one another until one of us gets the
upper hand. He knows that I have a sweet tooth so he keeps
taunting me with chocolate creme eggs that he lays for my taking
as gifts. Dont worry, I ate them. But As Usual, Im able to get out
of an uncomfortable situation totally unscathed. Attack is the best
form of defense so I start to poke him on all his itches to get him
to stop rubbing all my smooth spots.

On the right of us is a work light, I climb into the cage of the lamp
so that you can only see my head coming from the bars. I hop the
tripod unit out of the tarp. Nevermind that didnt happen, I lied. I
ran away from him, truthfully, because I was scared.
CHAPTER 3
Anyways, so I hop with the construction tripod light into the
information archives, where it is totally obvious what the deal is.
The room is a complete mess. Yeah, what a pig. The doctor has
ruined all his computers because he would always stu all his print
outs into the hardware space of his computer.
Next to his broken computers, theres a cute little diary with the
key still in the lock, so I take a look. All the computers and controls
turn on when I open the notebook. The first couple of pages are
recipes for cupcakes, but then the book completely changes
directions. Kinda freaks me out a little. After the cupcake part,
there are obsessively maintained, meticulous diary entries about
every single part of my genitalia. One of the computers shows a
CGI model of my sexual functions. He writes that he used to give
me laughing gas during his doctors visits in order to sneak around
my home and document my private writings and folk art. Some of
the other computers in the room show home-surveillance footage
from the camera on my XO labtop of me sitting alone in my room
being lonely and by myself. And according to his writing, Lazarus
Everly has been trying to brainwash me into a state of total house

arrest. The diary talks a bit more about how the wireless energy
coming from the plant is designed to feed the artificial bacteria
growing on everything in the bog, making the areas surrounding
my log cabin appear to be very health hazardous, preventing me
from ever leaving this land. This bacteria is also surveillance
sensory equipment that he is testing out on me that he wants the
Government to one day use. Then comes the juicy parts, there are
diagrams of how the Dentist has very intimate connections with
the President of the United States.
Why does the Dentist, if he wields so much governmental power,
care about what I do or say or think? I must find out why! I must
take a stand! I must break free!
So I go over to the controls and blow a big hole into the main
generator and I just stride right in. My matter keeps flipping back
and forth from being a liquid into being a gas until my moodswing swirls into a positive/negative vortex control pattern. I like
the repetition so I hide in the frequency to debut as electricity. I
am now totally wireless electric and I need to get my mind to trick
matter into going with us into a cloud.
But first things first. Gotta get Everly! I swoop down through the
air towards his spinal column and give him an electro shock
therapy back rub, completely breaking his back.
So its o we go to the Oval Oce. I am so glad to be out of that
horrible, seedy hangout for deviants, perverts and sex addicts.

Traveling in a rain cloud, I pass by lots of little tooth fairies. I wave

at them, blow them kisses, and they invite me to Camden, NJ to
this wonderful little hangout spot called Papas on 8th. I decide to
stop by and scope out the scene, maybe oer up some sound
advice. It feels so right, so alive the collective spirit lives on! I
meet Rick, Bill, and Lou, the three artists and musicians who call
themselves Papa, and do an electric twirl through their musical
instruments while they play. They have the size, style and spirit of
guys in their mid-twenties, but they have wrinkly skin and grey hair.
They were real productive: tooting out new sound-scapes, gluing
together nonbiodegradable sculpture collages (with no place to
store them), and blogging about themselves being drunk for their
former schoolmates interning at fashion magazines in New York.
When we finally all get to sit down, I try to lead the conversation
into competing at who has the craziest party stories and who has
had wilder lives. This quickly depresses them and they tell me they
are closing down their experimental exhibition space because they
are sick of this sort of attitude. They tell me about how ashamed
they are to be white and how they dont want to carry on in the
traditions of that. Certain tendencies have developed in their
minds that they cant get rid of. They are programmed to create
useless art objects out of raw materials that eventually get put in
the dump like everything else. I tell them that they were
brainwashed by their art schools to speed popular culture along to
increase the production of new distraction trends, and new goods,
and as a result to increase inflation, so that the countries would be
forever indebted to the Lazarus Everlys of the world. I inform
them that since they are in such a ripe position for culture

manipulation that Papa should guide the world towards a

moneyless, jobless, resource based society that is super advanced
technologically. They tell me they totally agree, but that they saw
a viral internet video (awhile back) (about all of that) and that I
was ripping it o. Anyways, all that matters is o to Capital Hill!
CHAPTER 4
What an unforgettable sight, our nations capital at night, truly
breathtaking. On my way flying into the metropolitan Washington
DC area, it starts raining. I come down in lightning out of a cloud
striking the White House, cutting the lights out throughout the
building. When the lights come back on in the Oval Oce, I am
there, my body matter totally neutralized, excited to meet the
president but what I actually see right in front of me is a bizarro
art installation. The room is trashed, with the phrase Its an
exciting time to be alive right now splattered all over the walls.
Over by where the presidents desk is, theres a creepy sculpture of
three mannequins, and on top of the desk is a bowl of
butterscotch candies. Sucking on the sweets, I contemplate the art
piece: the first mannequin has a rubber mask of the president
melted onto its face, its limbs are being puppeteered by a
mannequin thats been decorated to look like a vampire; the main
mannequin puppeteer controlling the vampire puppet is a
handsomely shaped mahogany statue of the dentist.
This communicates something to me. Yes it does. It was widely
understood throughout the underground (from my book, THE

YOUNGBLOOD ASCENDANCY) that the president was secretly

controlled by world bank stars and the wild boys of the vampire
nobility. Well, on second thought thats not the entire story. The
dentist controls everything. And he based his entire system oof
(as we were, as we were) oof hiding behind all the conspiracies in
my first book. I betcha hes not even a dentist
As I walk out of the oval oce, I see hundreds and hundreds of
high processing data storage drives. His employees are on the
most advanced SplashDecker mudware-entanglement interfaces
designing ocial news graphics and animating politicians/
celebrities into lifelike, but fictional realities. The designers are
very superstitious and have put talisman oce decorations
between them and their computers. Some of them have bowls of
candy. And above their heads are signs designating their
departments, the signs have all the major news outlets
represented: Drudge Report, Associated Press, NBC, NPR,
Bloomberg, New York Times, Reuters, PBS, Wall Street Journal, etc.
where they dream up the ideas and the scenarios for fake news
events and then create the visuals with CGI. Anyways, there were
also departments for the Dow Jones (where they direct the
economy) and departments for Google and Apple (where all the
worlds information gets stored and organized onto the MindBanks
for further casual cross-referencing).
So are you still asking yourself why the Dentist would care so
much about what I do if he has so much on his plate? Well I can
almost assure you it has a lot to do with the fact that THE

YOUNGBLOOD ASCENDANCY uncovered all of this (if you are

wondering what THE YOUNGBLOOD ASCENDANCY is about, then
reference back to when I was rambling) Its now more apparent
than ever that the Dentist wants to suppress me because he is
afraid that I will figure out his plans and write a book and take over
the White House. Well what can I say? Dont underestimate me!
But on a more serious side note, I would never do such a thing. On
second thought, nevermind. He has hijacked the motion-captured,
computer-generated manifestations of our president and other
politicians from the class of vampire nobles so that he can pass
whatever sexual laws he sees fit. He has consistently used the
catchphrase, Its an exciting time to be alive right now, to make
you feel cool with him destroying our economy and environment
so he can pump more funds into the eccentric pet projects that he
likes to get our country into. It sickens me to death!
Anyhow, I go back into the Oval Oce and decide to hide under
the desk to wait until workers have left. After they leave, I leave
my post under the desk and sneak back out to the main oce
area. I log myself onto one of the modules and start doing
experimental grati arts with the tried and true classic interface
for NBC News. As always, I get carried away, and open up all the
source files on the MindBanks and start to collage dierent people,
places, and things together with subversive new storylines and
quirky video / audio content creating my own fresh and original
news events. I edit this together all night long, making it a sensual,
visually addictive product that the public will not be able to resist.

I push the broadcast button, so it will go live onto the Wetware

Networks. Every night while people sleep, they get fed dreams of
the news. This is what will establish that the Cha Cha Diva is back.
Tomorrow morning the big, hot button topic of conversation will
be the overthrow of the world government and how Diva Bear will
lead this revolt.
In order to continue on this path of disrupting the world
government I need a sidekick, so I call up mama and ask her. She
regretfully declines this oer so I get to thinking that the perfect
sidekick would be a little field mouse that I could fit in my jacket
pocket. Just before dawn, I tip toe around the White House
searching for my new friend.
Here, here little mouse, I say, Come to Diva Bear, little mouse.
No luck, so I start banging out hole in the walls and AHHH!!
Ratz!
There is a nest of huge rats (the size of catz) curling around each
other in the wall I broke. I move on, knocking out 5 more rat
cavities until it finally happens! Yes, I look deep into the nest of a
dark hole, through the swirl of rats and I come across a scared little
field mouse wimpering, clasping for dear life onto his miniature,
mouse-size Christmas hat. At first he guards his eyes from the
light that is being shone into his squinty eyes. I hold out my hand
and he hops into the base of my palm getting very excited that I
am there to lend a helping hand (while looking for a helper to work
for free). Very cute.

Oh my goodness, whats your name? I ask.

John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith, The White House Christmas
Mouse, at your service! Paah-paa paaaahpa.Peepee! tipping his
little Santa Claus hat o his head.
Want to work for me as a sidekick? I will pay you in sugar cookie
crumbs!
Oh yes, yes sir, of course. Pa paaw pee pee pee pee pee, poo
poo? says the little Christmas mouse.
What are the truths behind Lazarus Everly? You are the only one
that I can ask.
Well, first of all, says the mouse, just forget everything you think
you know about him. pee pee pee pee poo pa, ke ke poo pa,
poo poo
Uh, I think I kn--
You know nothing! Hes not even a dentist. Hes not a he, he
says in a squeaky little mouse voice, and hes not even human.
Heees a hee za pee pee poo poo. Hes the next stage of evolution,
the whole surface of his body is many times more sensitive as a
normal female or male reproductive organ. His body is like one big
sexual organ and he is totally pornographic, recording all of those

feelings and sensations with the surveillance bacteria onto the

highly fee fee- fahhh fetishized BrainDomain drive that he owns on
the network.
Oh. So Ive, I say, been taken advantage of.
CHAPTER 6
There are stretched shadows. A spectacular golden light radiates
into my jail cell. The sun is setting in the window and its been over
40 days and 40 nights since I started writing my latest
composition, THE GOLDEN BOOK, a tell all whistle blower,
rebellion-style diary book of the corruption I have witnessed on
my latest journeys through this ya-ya world, and its almost
finished. Its been quite inspiring actually to write this book, billions
upon billions of people, who are newly acquainted with my belief
system have, assembled outside, 40 stories below my cell window,
on the streetlevel to cheer me on as I finish this book and to help
me overthrow the world government. This book will hold the key
to how these people will feel and the key to how we will all bring
about the global uprising. This is the night I must finally finish my
oeuvre and finally show my face to the people of the world,
delivering the speech of a lifetime.
As I put the last finishing touches on my latest masterwork, I start
to realize that I dont have a speech prepared. Well who cares?! I
scream freedom, and I fling the book out of my window, through
the bars, right into the sun. The book becomes a blinding ray,

reflecting the sunlight back into my eyes. Its almost as if time has
decided to slow down for this poignant moment, but the image
starts to linger too long, getting to the point where its boring and
time-consuming by the time it gets digitized. Well the book is
almost instantly digitized when it gets down to the street floor. My
fans just cant take the wait! The info goes out quick in this age.
When I finally come up with the brainy idea of getting Christmas
Mouse to sneak out of the cell in the middle of the night while
Night Guard is napping and steal the keys from him, its already too
late... its already happening. Every prisoner in the jail is rattling
their cups on the bars on their cell, chanting, CHA CHA CHA, CHA
CHA CHA. so I basepump my fist in the air, battering the
concrete roof of my jail cell into complete oblivion. At the exact
time the entire prison population punches in, breaking down my
prison walls, power-thrusting me up 10 floors, level by level, all the
way up to the roof. My fist pounds through the roof (a striking
silhouette against the full moon), with the prison collapsing around
it.
All the criminals underneath me decide to live underneath the
existing rubble, forming their own civilization based on spider
webs, preying on curious little explorers.
I spring into action, soaring in front of the moon! Thats when I see
him, Lazarus Everly. His face is being video projected into the
night sky.

CHAPTER 5
Then at the White House, Cha Cha Diva and John Jacob
Jingleheimer Smith get captured and sent to sexjail.
CHAPTER 7
In front of billions of people, I watch his face grimace back to me in
the sky. Hands around him are putting ping-pong balls onto his
face (he cant do it himself I paralyzed him the last time I saw him).
Huh?! Oh no, what does he think hes doing? Hes putting motion
capture devices onto his face! The video in the sky shows that the
ping-pongs are directly connected through wires to a ragged old
voodoo doll. His assistants are helping him write something
directly onto the doll. As soon as they write it, it instantaneously
appears on my stomach, saying, motion capture voodoo !
psychic mind control.
I am completely stupefied into a state of permanent shock.
Ironically, now my body is paralyzed and I really cant do anything
about it, unless I defeat him psychically or somehow destroy his
face.
The word wounds on my stomach disappear, just as they write
something new on the voodoo doll up in the video in the sky. The
words, The Golden Book was written by me as you, appear on
my stomach, and I cry inside. Ghostwriter Everly perhaps
controlled me the whole time I was in jail.

The words in my head wont come out; he begins to get fired up

delivering my speech of a lifetime. He as me is telling a crowd of
billions and billions of Cha Cha aficionados, That the time is right
to do whats right its an exciting time to be alive right now!
Get your shakers out! Everybody in the audience holds up and
starts shaking these plastic hand clapper shakers that gave out for
free at this event.
Thats when I see the Papa band come out of the crowd with the
Christmas Mouse. The members of Papa tell me they had sent the
little Christmas Mouse into the White House long ago as a way to
monitor the activities of Lazarus Everly.
So he always says pee pee and poo poo because he is trying to
pronounce the name of your band? I wonder.
They can recognize what Im wondering based on the look in my
eyes and say, Christmas Mouse just likes to say things like that, he
always has.
Hee hee, says John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith.
Christmas Mouse had told them earlier that I was in trouble, so
they decided to come up to the front of the crowd and save me.
They grab my legs and my hands and control my bodying and
reversing the voodoo back into that doll. Christmas Mouse jumps
on my skins face and stretches it around like elastic sheets. Up on

the skyscreen projection, the Mouse manipulated face is bleeding

from all the dierent expressions he is making, while the Papa
controlled voodoo doll jumps into Lazarus Everlys heart, making it
pop open, subsequently killing him once n for all and making me
regain control of my body with the glass heirlooms shooting out.
I look-at-my-book and edit-it, for xample xing out all the nos
with yess and vice-versa and everything else is opposite too, so
that it goes with my beliefs. The Papa band says they want to
publish my book so I immediately knight them in front of the
cheering audience.
CHAPTER 8
Giving the speech of a lifetime, I rally the audience into believing
what Im saying:
basically saying that in order to end our energy crisis, we must see
what its like to be electrocuted. In a caravan, the crowd follows me
back to the bog, where we go into the nuclear power plant and we
all become electricity and shoot ourselves in one very large blast
out of a solar panel back into the sun (making it pop) turning us
into a new idea of the point of humanity. We get sent back
through space into the earthborn solar paneling, turning us into
wireless electricity, and we split us apart and travel through all the
worlds various technologies. Every device, vehicle, appliance, and
machine turns on as humankind infinitely passes through them, as
humankind collectively realizes that the sun is the heart and the
earth is the brain.