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So we find a small LAN cafe in the sun with an angry, criminal owner and convince a DJ it's a nightclub, depressurise it, place the peice of paper at the doorstep and start playing CounterStrike while the DJ uses excessive cowbell. Once we have attracted the cowbell salesmen, one of us sneaks out into the sun where HDR has prevented the salesmen from seeing the pure white paper in the glare, and pull it out from under their feet while activating the the dimension-tearing device, creating a localized resonance cascade and spewing them into Xen.
Gotcha. I'll get right to it.
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Not at all benevolent dictator and I don't need to sign my posts cause my name is up there at the top.
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