October 22, 2016.

SPOOKTOBER STORY #12:

Q: You recently shared a news post onto your Facebook page's timeline. Some minor gossip about a superhero film, do you remember?
A: (inaudible)
Q: Could you please speak up?
A: Yes. I remember.
Q: How many members would you say your Facebook page has, Mr. -----? A rough estimate.
A: About 12,000.
Q: About 12,000. And you thought these 12,000 individuals needed to read casting news about a superhero film, is that right?
A: Yes.
Q: Why is that?
A: I just thought so.
Q: Uh huh. ... Why, would you presuppose, Mr. ----, that the majority of those 12,000 individuals are members of your Facebook page? What's the draw?
A: I don't know.
Q: You must have some idea.
A: (inaudible)
Q: Speak up, please.
A: I said, I know what you're getting at, and I don't want to talk about it. I'm done, ok?
Q: Oh?
A: Look, I'm SORRY, okay? I know I'm supposed to - They follow my page because back before I burnt out into this... fucking husk, I used to have interesting content, ideas, I'd interact with them on a personal level and I felt like I was leading a community, but you don't know what it's LIKE, okay!? The human mind isn't this infinite well, I can't be... I can't constantly come up with something new, or clever, or engaging! And there's all these mouths, 12,000 constantly gnashing, open mouths, a sea of starving, famished faces with sunken eyes and yellow, sharpened teeth, "Feed me, feed me content, I hunger, I crave, I need, need, constant need and infinite hunger for... content, anything, I don't care what, feed, feed..." So yes! All right? I fucked up. I gave them what they wanted. I stopped trying, I'm... broken! I don't have any new ideas. I don't have any ideas at all! I can't... I'm part of this machine, now, and I'm the terminus of the soulless, blind thing that stands a thousand feet tall and covers the globe from pole to pole...! So I shared casting gossip, and yes, all I added was "Hmm... what do you think?" So I fucked up! Fucking kill me! I live in Content Hell! Put me out of my fucking misery!
Q:... No, I think I'll keep you alive.
A: Please... please...
Q: Back to your admin duties, Mr. ----.
A: ...please...

(end of transcript)