The cultists who live in the woods by Archey's trailer are unusually noisy tonight. Archey just ignores them as he reclines in his favorite chair. His arms burn from a long day of winching, and the thoughts of leathery wings and floating goat heads are nothing more than a fading memory.

Someone knocks on the door.

‘Knock knock,’ says the knock on the door.

Archey staggers to his feet and yanks open his front door, annoyed at being disturbed so late. Sitting outside is a large cardboard box. There is no sign of whoever delivered it. Archey, sparing no thought towards that conundrum, limply drags the box inside. He opens it. There is a man crouched within. He wears a black, skin-tight suit with a slit for his eyes. On his chest in large, white font, is the word TELEVISION. He looks at Archey.

‘Hello. I am your new television. Congratulations.’

From somewhere else in the box, the television withdraws a remote and hands it to Archey. He then climbs from the box and crouches a few meters in front of Archey’s chair. Archey’s knowledge of televisions is hazy, but he believes they are typically box-shaped, not man-shaped. Like all other disturbing thoughts, he puts the concern aside, takes the remote and sits in his chair.

‘I am your television,’ says Archey’s television, ‘Watch me.’

Archey is confused. He looks at the remote. There is one button. It says ON.

Archey presses the button.

‘The weather will be normal,’ says Archey’s television.

For the next week, Archey’s television (usually inaccurately) informs him of the weather. It doesn’t seem as versatile as a device as Archey has been led to believe televisions to be, but it was free. As Archey becomes acclimated to his television, he finds himself spending more and more of his free time in his chair. He’s slacking off at work, only barely winching enough to meet Mr. Legion’s standards. For the second time in his life, Archey finds his interest in winches somehow waning. The television, he realizes, has made him content with doing nothing. What biting social commentary. On a Friday evening, Archey rests in his chair, nursing his sore arms and letting the television tell him of the wonders of normal weather.

There's a knock on the door.

‘Knock knock,’ says the knock on the door.

Archey commands Marmaduke to go answer it. Marmaduke hops to the door and somehow opens it. Standing there is Mr. Legion. He seems angry, as usual.

‘I knew it!’ he exclaims knowingly. Mr. Legion rushes to Archey’s television and tackles it to the ground. Archey gasps. From a small pouch on its belt, the television withdraws a two meter long katana.

‘WHERE IS ABADDON?’ Mr. Legion demands as he tussles with the armed television set.

‘I shall never betray the DLF!’ replies the television as it manages to impale one of Mr. Legion’s trailing personalities.

‘WE'LL SEE ABOUT THAT,’ says Mr. Legion as he dislocates, pops back into place, and then once again dislocates the television's right shoulder. The television twists out of Mr. Legion's many-handed grasp and twirls through the air, wielding its sword like a sword-wielder wielding a sword. Mr. Legion jumps after it. The pair then engages in all out, acrobatic aerial combat, despite the fact that Archey’s trailer has quite a low ceiling. The television launches off one of the walls and manages to slice open Mr. Legion’s main body. Mr. Legion retaliates, unbinding one of his personalities and sending it after the television. Blood splatters Archey’s walls as the combat intensifies. Marmaduke coughs out a worried bark. The television lands on the floor and twirls its katana just to look cool. Mr. Legion attempts to take advantage of the taunt, but before he can react, the television throws its sword like a javelin, impaling Mr. Legion through the chest. The television then quickly scoops up Marmaduke and leaps out the window. Archey sits in his chair, attempting to process what had just occurred.

'Billiard...' Mr. Legion croaks through labored breaths.

Archey moves from his chair to kneel beside Mr. Legion.

'This... is all... your fault,' rasps Mr. Legion.

Archey can't argue with that.

Mr. Legion coughs up blood. 'You have... to get.... that dog back.'

Archey is touched by Mr. Legion's concern for Marmaduke.

'No, no, no, I don't...' Mr. Legion coughs up a lung. Literally. '... I don't care about the... stupid dog! It's what's.... inside the dog... you....'

Mr. Legion dies. Then suddenly sits up.

'Let's go, Billiard,' he says, climbing to his feet. 'I only have 999,999 lives left. Time's ticking.'

Archey wants to know where Mr.Legion is going to take him.

Mr. Legion steps out of the trailer, then turns to face Archey. 'If we're gonna to raid the DLF's Winchward Beach headquarters, you're gonna need something a little stronger than your fists. I know some people who can help us with that.'