[Remember folks, Stay Inside!!]

[That was the motto of the Lord of Screens, Mr. Ant Tenna. Lord of Screens, or Lord of Propeganda- well, it depends who you ask. That man will say anything as long as it keeps eyes on him- fake news, commercials, skits, he is in charge of it all. He sat at his desk with a leg crossed over his knee, cigar in his teeth with a large stack of papers in his hand. It was an outline for the upcoming segment that week, another one immediately after the last. The studio was demanding, and paid pretty awful to boot- nobody wanted to work there, but it wasn't like they had a choice]

[As he read the script, his ‘eyebrows’- or lack there of- furrowed against his screen. His antennas flattened against his head, his lackluster posture straightening up. This script was bogus, and NOT in a good way! This won't get any audience!]

”No…No, NO!! This script is RIDICULOUS!!”

[He banged his gloved fist against his desk, objects hopping up at the force.]

”INTERN! GET IN HERE!!”

[His voice boomed through the thin walls of the studio. Your cue to deal with some bullshit.]