The second night, in which I am rejected by the collective.

We consulted the manuals, we examined all the plugs and connectors, we tried everything we could think of to try, which between the two of us was pretty much everything except sacrificing a goat, and we didn't try that only because we didn't happen to have a goat handy.

The machine sat there and blinked. Sometimes it blinked slowly, sometimes it blinked quickly, sometimes it did double-blinks. It would not turn on, it would not turn off. It. Just. Fucking. Blinked.

Tomorrow, obviously, I will be calling the home health people, and inquiring if, perhaps, my Cthulhu machine is defective.

You may imagine my excitement.