This was inspired by a twitter conversation. 
He pondered the matted, insane hair of today’s project. His best project. Framed posters of bestsellers covered the walls, but today her screen was blank. The cursor blinked.
He poked a finger through her head. The inside of her skull felt like brushing dozens of thorns. He frowned and stirred with his finger.
Low mutters rose from her: “Come on, come on. Come on. I pay Muse, Inc good money and you had best come up with something.”
Nothing quickened in her. He sighed. He hated moments like this. There was no help for it. He needed to put more in her than just his finger.
He took a deep breath and dove for her head. Just like jumping off a high tree, through branches and brambles, to land inside her head.
No wonder nothing he couldn’t get through her head. It was a mess. Like a hurricane had come and gone. Nothing but debris and dirt here. He made a mental note to add additional charges for cleaning to her account this month.
Only one thing he could do now. He reached up and took control of her fingers.
“Yes. Yes! More.”
He snorted as her cries rose into the air. And the world thought she was a genius.
