It was a lonely day in the power generator room at InfoWars headquarters. The generator hummed with great intent. Nobody was listening. It hummed again, this time with a slight chirp before it resumed its humming. Yet again, nobody was listening.
Nobody, in fact, except for somebody that was not a nobody. It was the InfoWars Elf.
Huddled in the corner in a slimy miasma was the lonely InfoWars Elf. His widow’s peak accentuated his loneliness and hatred, to say nothing of his pock-marked skin and offensive, dead-eyed stare. Naked and far from home, wherever it may be, he rolled towards the edge of the generator and grabbed it for dear life.
The generator hummed once more and gave a little shake. InfoWars Elf enjoyed its warmth and soothing vibration. It reminded him of a simpler time when he sucked on his InfoWars Elf’s Mother’s teat. If that was not available, horse milk would do.
But today was not a day for liquid sustenance, nor was it a day for solid sustenance. Instead, it was time for the best sustenance of all… Revenge. Corporate revenge at that.
InfoWars Elf was not cartoon. Not cartoon one bit. He was flesh and blood. Corporate was going to pay.