The Switch

 Fortress Dread rolled forward on its many giant wheels.The townsfolk of Argaroth quaked in their boots (those who had boots) as the shadow of the fortressfell across them. A powerful heat ray played over the isolated town.“NOW, PUNY HUMANS, YOU WILLPAY FOR YOUR INSOLENCE,” boomed the voice of Lord Evil. “AS MY TERRIBLE FLAME-O-TRON BURNS YOUR HOMES TO CINDERS, I—What’s happened? Yes, with the Flame-O-Tron! Why’s it not flaming? It should be flaming. Ah!—YES, NOW AS MY TERRIBLE FLAME-O-TRON BURNS YOUR HOMES TO CINDERS, YOU CAN REFLECT ON HOW FOOLISH IT IS TO—Look! It’s done it again! You can see it’s done it again. It’s not flaming. It’s back! No, it’s gone.”The heat ray stuttered into life once more and died again.“BEAR WITH ME,” boomed Lord Evil. “WE’RE JUST HAVING SOME TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES.”In the sub-sub-sub-dungeon of Fortress Dread, Pollig the goblin flicked the switch again. On and off.Flick, flick.“I dunno,Twelve,” he said to the tiny gnome next to him. “It’s not the lights.” Flick flick. “It’s not the furnaces.”“The hot water?” said Number Twelve.“Nah, I checked that.”Pollig flicked the switch a few more time.“It’s a mystery, innit.”“I HAVE DECIDED TO BE MERCIFUL,” boomed Lord Evil uncertainly. “I HAVE DECIDED NOT TO BURN YOUR TOWN BUT INSTEAD TO... er... TO GIVE YOU ALL A SUNTAN. CONSIDER YOURSELVES WARNED! Yes, yes. Back away. Get us out of here. It’s just embarrassing.”Fortress Dread rolled on.