American Idle

Electricity flowed through the wires of his house, it rippled around the rooms and snaked through the outlet and slipped into the television set and coursed across the circuitry to ignite phosphors on and off until pixels danced and winked and altered their wavelength ultimately making Simon and Paula and that big black Randy animate as if they were real and not just a figment of a producer's imagination a manifestation of a script written in silence while waiting for better ideas to emerge. When I snap my fingers, you will awaken and remember nothing. On the count of three, you will open your eyes and stumble into bed.