Coelocanth notices a strange flickering on the monitor. Suddenly, the screen goes blank and the darkness pushes outward, enveloping Coelocanth so all sensation is lost.
Then... a feeling of motion. It's as if he's being drawn into the monitor. Sensation returns slowly, but it's not anything he's experienced before. He seems to be in a strange pseudo-matrix. Game shortcuts flicker in and out of his vision. Steam activation codes, GOG serials, Humble Bundle links, Indie Royale bundles, Bundle Stars purchases - all swirl around him like some mutated, many-limbed spider.
And then the realization sets in: the backlog has consumed him. It has assumed control. Brief flashes of his life rush by, only to be consumed by the sentience that is The Backlog. Sadly, Coelocanth accepts that he'll never see his beloved family again. He'll never escape the mountain of unplayed games. And he knows there is only one person to blame, one person to whom this nightmare can be attributed, one single entity that tipped the scales and finally brought this Frankensteinian horror to life... Trentonlf.
The computer desk is silent, the chair empty, dust collecting on the silent speakers. The twin rigs hum along as usual; no one attends the keyboard. But on the dual black LCD screens, a single message burns bright white:
Trentonlf, I'M COMING FOR YOU!