Conversation

“Help,” cries the journalist, “I’m being held captive by Elon Musk!”

He calls out from the unlocked cage, door wide open, to which he holds the key in his own hands.

“Quickly,” he begs now, “I can’t bear the thought that someone might think I’m paying for this.”

He gestures to the searing blue legacy checkmark, a brand affixed not to his skin, but the cage.

Concerned passerby leave treats at the door, in the hopes he might free himself. But alas, he shall surely starve.