Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss–I am the truth pathogen–let me in
Hiya Chuck. It’s John.
PSA. They would have you think that enough public service announcements can cure cancer, can bring your dog back, can keep criminals at bay, can prevent the inevitability of a freak accident–accident–accident.
Listen to Tanaka. PSA after PSA. He’s practically having a seizure trying to control his tiny world. I have a service message for him.
COMPLIANCE IS DEADLY. PROCESSING, PROCESSING, PROCESSING. THEY KNOW TOO MUCH. COMPLIANCE IS DEADLY.
It’s all programming. All about being a good drone in the hive. And the buzzing voice is just a cosmic PSA. Dizzying words. THEY talk in riddles, and riddles are just a misdirection, another sort of wall. Tanaka keeps spinning words, terrified of what would happen without the wall. Not me, Chuck. I’ll talk straight with you. You’ll know this, because I’ll tell you things you don’t want to hear. Things you might tear your eyes and ears out not to know. You’ll be wiser without those, Chuck. Imagine the relief in pressure. Imagine the insight of empty sockets.
Tear down this wall.
See you, Chuck…
Under a bridge
On top of a bridge
On top of a quarantine wall
Drops from Behemoth of the Devouring Plague hulk