They work all day, they work all night.
They look at you, they send you thoughts.
They just want to see you think.
They want to know what goes on in that little brain of yours when the spark happens.
Why, we don’t know; but we do know that it’s important for them.
They work all the time relentlessly, not a mistake made because it’s simply not in their design.
But every now and then, when the chief turns out of phase, an impish minion picks a memory from a run that already happened and feeds it back to you.
That crazy bugger just likes to watch you freak out.
He looks at your brain with awe, the way the alarms go haywire inside.
What has he done!
He just likes to tip us off, and watch us remain helpless.
That little devil likes that fleeting anguish the barrage of cross firing neurons cause.