Night Broadcast
I leaned that black smartphone upright against a chunky television remote, locking the camera dead on the edge of the TV stand. That pathetic red-and-blue insect was jammed headfirst inside a hollow ceramic tape dispenser, acting like he had a bunker. Unacceptable nonsense. I shoved my wide snout right into the reflective camera glass, hissing a venomous takedown about how spandex-wearing cowards cower behind office supplies because their noodle limbs fold under raw apex pressure. Once my fury peaked, I charged in and headbutted the heavy dispenser. The loud clack echoed hard across the polished wood, dumping Spider-Man helplessly off the rim.

