Fernando sat down in front of the computer one Thursday and opened the Open Office document in which he keeps Chronicles. He scrolls through, checking titles, searching for the content upon which the world's masses wait with superhuman patience. He comes across one which he thinks will work, but it turns out he'd already uploaded it and changed the title at the last minute.
Fernando reaches the end of his document. It's far, far too early to put up “Annual Abscondments IV,” even though Fernando is out nine movies already in 2013.
Fernando leans back in his chair and scratches his cheek. It seems he lacks in product. This could only mean that he's gone for a minimum of two weeks without running across any indignant customers, moronic telemarketers, outlandish mirth, or inept blackmailers.
“Christ. This never happens,” Fernando says aloud to his Dominion, which lies empty at this early hour.
That's when the string of three trucks belonging to Fernando's electric company began pulling into the store. They stop in the middle of the road before the Dominion, not even bothering to pull to the side. Men in coats bearing their master's sigil climb out and gather near the trucks in a small circle. One of them points in the vague direction in which the Dominion lies. Could there be something amiss with Fernando's power flow, something that requires three trucks with bucket lifts to repair? That would be quite the tale!
But, no, after their short palaver they return to their vehicles and pull back out onto the highway. Interesting event averted.
Fernando presses his lips together and looks to the top of his television, where a line of mini-Maoi, a red-orange octopus with a harelip, and an orange crab with a funky mouth lair. He addresses the crab, “I don't care. I'm gonna write it up.”
Fernando pauses. “And I may as well tell the story of the time whatsherface asked me about you guys. I don't think I've done that one yet.”
So he writes this, and the other one as well, and another week's content is generated. Huzzah!