A man in crazy pajamas atop a skyscraper rains laser death down on the streets. He's laughing as he does it.
Below, fires bloom for the news cameras. Reporters duck debris as they yammer on about demands and manifestoes and terror.
Meanwhile, in the background, the screams of scorched innocents melt into the wail of sirens.
It makes me angry. My cheeks burn with it -- or that just might be from the wind.
The madman grows closer and closer, impossibly fast. His eyes widen as he lifts his weapon in my direction. He won't make it in time.
My hands tighten into fists as I brace for impact.
I have a set of crazy pajamas of my own.
"Rarely is a mechanic so simple and elegant at emulating another medium. . . Truth...