Across the physical world and the more rarefied world of the internet, regular programming was interrupted for a special, emergency announcement.
It was unlike any emergency announcement seen by anyone on Earth before, though in other corners of the universe there was a species here or there that would have taken one look and shuddered delicately, or as the case might be, emitted slime stinking of alarm pheromones.
It began innocuously enough, with the view of something like a newsroom, if a newsroom had been sucked dry of all its color; pale gray walls, a pale gray desk, though someone had thoughtfully placed a rather anemic potted plant on one corner. Behind the desk sat a man, one with severe black hair and bright green eyes framed by a foxy face. At first he wore an expression that the average dowager aunt would have attributed to a Nice Young Man65.
Then he smiled. It was a charming enough expression, except it somehow also gave the impression that he would like to reach through the screen and give someone a good biting. And that he very possibly could, if he so chose.
He folded his graceful hands neatly on the desk top and said: "Greetings, puny mortals. While I of course deserve your undivided attention at all times, nonetheless, I'm in a generous mood. So please consider yourself on the receiving end of an extremely small, yet still non-zero amount of gratitude for your attention, or rather what passes for attention in your pea-sized brains."
In one smooth movement he vaulted on top of the desk, sitting neatly with his legs crossed. "However, there's one particular non-person out there this is addressed to, and you already know who you are, scum. Your attempt to kill me was pathetic and ill-conceived, and as you can now see, also an abject failure. Much like everything about you, really."
His smile took on a lazy edge. "Now, it was a nice effort, I'm sure, and I do hope you can come up with something a bit more entertaining in the future. Assuming of course you're even capable of the most basic forms of creativity, which is hard to say since I've seen no proof thus far." He yawned delicately. "Anyway, do give it a good try. Because you're really starting to bore me."
The picture froze on the last perfect face shot, the Scissor Sisters singing cheerfully in the background, I can't decide whether you should live or die... while text scrolled along the bottom that simply said: Actually, I have decided, and let's just say I wouldn't place any bets on you. Love and kisses, Loki.
Five minutes later, a fan page had been made on Facebook.
Five minutes after that, Facebook was temporarily knocked out by a DDoS; it could have been Chinese hackers, or it could have been the tantrum of a robot who didn't really understand that rage was a thing to be loved, petted, and saved up for use at the moment of maximum effect.
65 – As in, "He was such a nice young man, so quiet, I never would have guessed he'd eat the mailman's face."