A cold night, a wild tempest, thunder bellows and lightning flashes. A tattered shadow of a man sits oblivious to the storm. The man stares at a glowing monitor, the only light in the room save the lightening. A witness, had anyone had the courage to venture into the chaos strewn domicile, would have seen the glint of insanity in the man’s eyes. He watched entranced as he gave final breath to his creation. Arcane glyphs marched boldly across the screen toward certain conquest. With lines trim and forms powerful, the characters advanced into Machiavellian designs that would chisel their marks into the minds of men. The tattled man raised his fists to the heavens and warned all of creation, “It’s Alive!”
Not incredibly original but it was all he could think of at that moment. With that exultation he wondered off to see if there was any coffee left.