Leo looked down at his remote. The button was gone. Just a melted crater of black plastic where it used to be.
Then the studio door opened.
Leo’s DVD recorder started whirring. It wasn't recording to the disc. It was ejecting the disc. The silver platter slid out, glowing red-hot. On its shiny surface, burned into the plastic, was a single file: . itv2 dvber
"You pressed the yellow button, Leo. You saved the buffer. Now you belong to the multiplex." Leo looked down at his remote
The red light on the Bush recorder blinked to life. On the CRT television, the screen went black. No static. Just a deep, cavernous void. Then, a low hum. Not the hum of a broken aerial—this was rhythmic. It sounded like a dial-up modem crying. Then the studio door opened
He pressed .