Hrrrrm. I am at least temporarily back online; the bailing wire and duct tape seem to be holding things together. It rattles, it shakes. It occasionally shudders and sighs. Imagine, if you will, a Frankensteinian scenario with cables running will'e nill'e to things stitched together and strapped onto tables and then to spinning and whirling thingmabobs and doodads attractive to lightning.
In the aftermath, sparks flyings and more smoke than you can imagine; acrid, ozone laden and nerve jangling. The monster sallies forth. Mindless but alive.


While I am fully aware that I write like an uneducated, former construction worker, when the above is pasted into the linked website it says that Stephen King writes like me.

Good coffee, good weed, and time on my hands...