7:50pm: a 12.37kg meteorite crashes into a parked chevrolet malibu in peekskill, new york.
7:53pm: robots explode out of the meteorite and rampage through the streets.
7:54pm: no, that didn't happen. the meteorite just crashed into the car and a lady came out of the house because she heard a loud bang.
7:55pm: the robots shoot the lady in the face with their deathrays of death and her head melts all over her sweater.
7:56pm: stop it. there aren't any robots. it's just a meteorite that comes flying out of the sky at 80 meters per second and it smashes into a car. that's it.
7:57pm: and then the robots climb into the car and...
7:58pm: no. the car is broken. a meteorite just crashed into the car. there is no way a robot could just climb in and drive away.
7:59pm: busted! you just admitted there were robots.
8:00pm: jesus christ. there are no robots. just transcribe the fucking incident for the fucking incident report.
8:01pm: the lady's head reconstitutes itself and rolls around. the lady isn't human. the headless body grabs the reanimated head and squishes it back on to her neck. she is alive.
8:03pm: you're a douchebag. we're going to have to type this whole thing up all over again.
8:04pm: the zombie nonhuman lady chases the robots. she is dumb and slow but as strong as a hardon in tight underpants.
8:05pm: i'm out of here.
8:06pm: the robots and the zombie nonhuman lady freeze. they hear something. it's a human. an incident transcriptionist. he's moving across the lawn.
8:07pm: [no entry]
8:08pm: oh my god, the robots and the nonhuman zombie lady team up. they are going nutso ballutso on the transcriptionist dude. oh, stop, please. so messy.
8:09pm: [no entry]
8:10pm: the robots and the zombie nonhuman lady are finished with the transcriptionist. a robot kicks his head into outer space. they spot another transcriptionist sitting across the street typing something. they go over to him and introduce themselves. turns out they are pretty cool. they tell the transcriptionist to quit his job.
8:11pm: the transcriptionist types FUCK YOU and FUCK YOUR JOB UP YOUR BALLS. the transcriptionist will now party with the robots and zombie nonhuman lady and never ever come back to this stupid job. it will be awesome.
