A paper gun. Pointing, and pretending to fire it, has a placebo like effect, creating synchronicity. I pass the gun on to others, in disbelief at the power of suggestion, but it does work.
Wandering through Wolverhampton, considering beer, remembering I don’t drink any more.
I am in a room, there’s a storm outside, waves crash through the windows, the floor rocks, I try to get dressed.
The Pentagon. Beneath it is a crystal spaceship. The whole thing launches into space, and once in orbit, bombards the world with electromagnetic pulse weapons, sending the rest f humanity back to the Stone Age.
The Pentagon stays in orbit, monitoring the surface, waiting for the majority of humanity to die. They plan to return to earth, but only when they are sure of global control through technology.