The time has come, the line has gone flat, James stares blankly at the ceiling. Everyone cries, a nurse pulls a white sheet over his face, and wheels away the body. But what these people don’t know, James is not dead. He has pulled the heist of the century, he has successfully stolen billions from the movie studio.

An inconspicuous white van drives a healthy and alive James to a basement in San Francisco, inside is a state of the art VR machine, one that can simulate every sensation known to man, one that requires the whole body to be hooked up to a machine. As James gets into his blue alien fuck machine throne, naked of course, his servants gently place a milk pump on his penis.

The machine turns on, suddenly his veins are filled with the adrenochrome of 1000 children, daily. He finally sees it, the blue alien people he has fetishized for decades. James Cameron is immortal, raping the blue people from the avatar movie in a vr simulation worth more than the gdp of several countries. The last words anyone ever hears him say is “im blue dabadedabado”