A FREE IPAD REFLECTS YOUR FACE, BUT TWISTED BY YEARS OF PROFOUND MADNESS. YOU FEEL AN ACHE AS THE IMAGE GROWS YOUNGER

AS YOU APPROACH THE EXIT, THE “FIND IPAD” SOUND CHIMES INSIDE YOUR BAG. A RATTLING, SHRIEKING DIN INSIDE EVERY DOORWAY.

THE SOUND OF HOOVES ON THE ROOF. A FLASH OF CLAWS. SUDDENLY, IT’S INSIDE THE HOUSE, FREE IPAD CLUTCHED IN ITS MANDIBLES.

YOUR GUIDE POINTS TO A COPSE OF DEAD TREES. HE SAYS SOMETHING THAT SOUNDS LIKE “FREE IPAD” AND REFUSES TO PROCEED

YOU CLAW AT YOUR FREE IPAD, LAYERS PULLING AWAY LIKE FONDANT. A KINDLE FIRE. YOU HEAR BITTER LAUGHTER, MAYBE YOUR OWN.

EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH BECOMES A FREE IPAD. YOU’RE HUNGRY AND YOU DON’T KNOW WHY ANY OF THIS IS HAPPENING.

AN ANACONDA UNHINGES ITS MAGNIFICENT JAW. INSIDE, THE BRIGHT SCREEN OF A FREE IPAD RESTS JUST WITHIN ARM’S REACH.

YOUR OWN SCREAMING FACE VISIBLE OVER CCTV, ITS WARNINGS INAUDIBLE. YOU INSTEAD EXAMINE THE TV DISPLAYING THE FREE IPAD.