It’s a balmy evening in the Lonestar. The sky is velvet and the first few stars look like pin pricks in heaven when you tilt your head back to look. The lazy sounds of early spring are muted behind the static of the television. Bobby Dimes encourages you tinnily to tune in next time when the signal is interrupted with a sound like tearing metal. The screen lights up. It has never done this before.
The warbling voice mutters into a microphone too close to tight lips. You feel a stirring in your gut like destiny and psionics and bad breakfast all at once.
“Come meet me here” the voice implores you “I have something extraordinary to show you.”