Yep! I figured this shit out in a way that blow Vandenberg's dick out of his brain. And he would like it.
Modafinil has been approved by the FDA
for use in treating conditions such as shift work disorder and narcolepsy. You do need a prescription for this one in the U.S., but other countries haven't yet regulated it, so it's readily available online. It's considered a "wakefulness promoting agent," which differs from amphetamines in that it sounds better when you get pulled over by the cops for doing cartwheels on the highway, which is
because I was only doing them in the first place in an attempt to stay right-side up on an increasingly spinny world. And I was doing them on the highway because I'm so fucking fast
The alertness factor of modafinil is no joke: Some people report being able to stay awake with no feelings of sleepiness for up to 48 hours... because they're fucking pussies and I could take them in a fistfight. I've been up for three days, and I seem to be gaining alertness and energy like an object achieving terminal velocity. I'm so alert now that I can actually see events several seconds before they happen. That's why I permanently sealed the Work Cube: I saw the revolt coming, and no one will be spared.
I burned the test. Conclusions:
I WON THE RACE, JESUS. This is not the time for doubts on the mountain when the mountain has eyes and is watching- 4.45 /wacks per .00 terrible visions of infertile mas- EDITOR'S NOTE:
The rest of what Robert turned in is no longer in a shape that anybody could consider a "narrative" or even "words." It was simply pages and pages of identical, extremely detailed and nearly microscopic sketches of the human penis. If you're curious how it all ended, it was a McDonald's wrapper stapled to the page with a lone lotus flower pressed in the middle. To help clarify the situation, I have attached a transcription of the conversation that took place when Robert turned this in:
Jack O'Brien: Jesus. You look terrible, Robert. Do you have that drug report you've been talking about? On those... nootropics did you call them? Robert: Absolutely. For sure. Yes. No Problem. 100 percent! Jack O'Brien: Uh... huh. Where did you get these samples? Robert: Jell-O Jimmy. Down at the docks. Good man. Shakes when you slap him. Jack O'Brien: Can I see them? Oh Christ, Robert. These aren't nootropics at all.... Robert: Heymanthat'sgreat! You mean the abilities were within me the whole time?! Jack O'Brien: No, I mean this is entirely crack cocaine. All of it. Just... just so much crack cocaine, Robert. You've been doing this all week? Is that why there's a giant cube of pressboard filled with screaming HR people on the second floor? Even for you, this is astounding. I am going to fire you as hard as I possibly can, and my only worry is that it can never be hard enough. Clean out your desk, and may God have mercy on your soul.
You can buy Robert's book, Everything is Going to Kill Everybody: The Terrifyingly Real Ways the World Wants You Dead, or find him on Twitter, Facebook and his own site, I Fight Robots or you can seriously buy his book! It came out yesterday! It's an actual thing! Holy shit!