I'm a vacuumer. I like it. It's cathartic. You spend a few minutes running your Hoover over the rug and you feel cleansed. The chaotic whirlpool that is your life finds its purpose in this little act of order.

But I have a fear. A primal fear.

It's rooted in the legend of the Ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail.

I'm afraid that one day the vacuum will suck up its own cord. What will happen? Will I die in a fiery, dusty flash? Will a wormhole open into a parallel dimension?

I just don't know.

But I'll keep vacuuming, man. Someone has to push the envelope.