As the third random future climaxed, a dehydrated, juiceless speck of TVP ejected itself from my forehead slot and as it hit the floor its resonance spread throughout the room. This process-based resonant spread was the cue for a scene change. The stage lights were blacked out and people dressed in dark garments began to run about the place changing various scenery. During the blackout a hand reached up between my legs and ripped my clothes off in a single motion. As the stage lights returned to 80% I now found myself standing naked in what appeared to be a retro-postcagean reality where the art 'elite' occupy an eternal recurrence, re-re-celebrating the genius of my earlier model but adding their own verbiage to the tediousness as it un-progresses.
Eager to escape the smell of the emperor's tunic issuing from the shadowy bits of this particular reality, I hailed an intra-sonus taxi and made my escape. The taxi was driven by eyeless Camille (the result of an unfortunate meeting with the luminous cod).