He opened the laptop,
To the filled Red localdiscs,
Felt a jerk and a jolt,
And a maggot, rushing through his spine.
Time stood still for numerous seconds,
Along with those sucked cheeks,
And his great nose gateway,
Filling his lungs with dust.
The small tortoise on his chest
Was on a strike mode,
And his neurotransmitters,
Had taken a day off
When he finally got the guts to blink,
He clicked on the Format key,
The then appeared empty lines,
Had some other stories to tell..