Epic Struggle Between Man And Machine Ends In Mutually Assured Destruction

A Dr. Yoho Lungfish Paradigm Shifter (prepare for shiftage, biatch)
-A light flashes on a printer. Is it the ready light, or the no paper light? It's not easy to tell, it's not a kind of printer our hero has seen before. Whatever.

-Our hero turns off the printer.

-The printer makes shutting down sounds, but the light is still flashing.

-What the hell?

-Exhausted and overcaffeinated, our hero stares at the blinking light.

-What is that, amber or light orange. I hate amber... It looks like the light is old and half of it is burnt just a little bit. A little discolored. It's probably amber. That's the popular indicator light color, along with green and red...

-"flash flash flash flash flash"

-Our hero stares at it, thinking he can almost hear the light, turns the printer on, and then back off, but the light still flashes. Our hero is so tired but jittery at the same time. All he wants- no, all he needs, is to go to sleep, but he is so wired he can't keep his eyes closed for more than a fraction of a second. He read once that irritability was a side effect of too much caffein, and he was feeling it then, watching that damn amber light, flashing despite his electronic command to stop. Was it some kind of ready light?

-"flash flash flash flash flash"

-It was laughing at him, in it's own way, saying that it wouldn't stop, no matter what he did, unless he did what he wanted and gave it paper, or whatever it was it wanted. But there was no paper. So there would be no end to the flashing.

-Never seen an amber light so damn bright. I mean, jesus, it's probably enough to read by. Who needs that much power for a freaking ready light? Or warning light, or whatever it is.

-Determined to prove his superiority over the insolent printer, our hero laboriously crawls under the desk, ensures that he has found the right cord, and disconnects the printer. Thrilled by the taste of victory in a battle symbolic of the epic war between man and machine, our hero began thinking of how he would word his "gotcha!" speech to the defeated printer, and got back in his chair

-"flash flash flash flash flash"

-"what the hell?"

-Our hero stared at the light, the impossible amber light, the light that was blindingly bright in contrast to the dark room, the light which should not be flashing, but against all logic, flashed all the same. Was there a battery in it? It didn't make sence! Battery or no, a printer was not supposed to flash amber when it was unplugged! But it did, and for 23 minutes, our hero stared at the flashing light, too confused and tired to move, too caffeinated to tire of the situation, which really wasn't a big deal. Not that big of a deal... but still. It was off. It was unplugged. What els could be done?

-"flash flash kill flash flash"

-"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

-It was a trick of the mind, he knew, a symptom of too many legal drugs and not enough sleep. But even if it didn't happen, why was the printer still blinking? He had pulled the right cord, he was sure, he had pressed all the buttons, done everything that should be done, but still the amber light flashed in defiance of everything. And then that happened. It was all too clear, in light of everything else that had happened that day, it suddenly wasn't so odd that the printer was doing what it was doing

-"flash flash kill flash flash"

-But what it was doing was wrong. Our hero at least had the presence of mind to know that he should not listen to the printer, who's agenda and motivations were certainly not in line with his own.

-flash flash kill flash flash

-Our hero left the computer room, but the printer was still flashing. The message was still in his mind, floating in the back; refusing to die just as that light refused to die.