It’s 22:03.
The world was quie…
*BUZZ-BUZZ-BUZZZZ*
I shot up from bed. My eyes darted around the room. I knew something was off.
*ZAP*
I found myself on a deserted battlefield—bugs roaming the sands, lasers cross firing, and men falling. A voice boomed –
“You know what to do: Get in there and kill ‘em all!”
And the bloodbath began.
It was brutal.
I crushed the bugs—one by one—but not before they left scars all over my body. EIGHT. HOURS. LATER
I was exhausted.
Bleeding.
My head is hurting with every move—like someone is hammering my brain.
I fell.
Fainted…
My last memory:
Three more bugs broke through the barricade, patrolling the battlefield. But there’s not a single soldier left to stop them.
I lost.
We lost.
…
…
*BIP-BIP-BIP*
I opened my eyes.
It’s 6:40.
I was still lying there in the same embarrassing position.
But instead of the bloody battlefield…
I’m on my bed—swelling from head to toe.
And my memory returned:
I was attacked by an army of mosquitoes yesterday night.
I killed 20 before I lost consciousness. I dragged myself up, grabbed the electrical swatter, and killed three more that were resting on the shelves nearby.
What a night.
…
…
Huh?
You’re waiting for the marketing lesson.
I don’t have one.
I am barely awake, and I just want to channel my anger into writing a ridiculous story to entertain you (or at least myself).
That’s the beauty of email storytelling.
You’re not relying on a home run every single day. You know that the result of any single email means very little. You can always make more sales by sending another one.
Talk soon,
– WYH