"OH SHIT!"

Tron covered his head, shielding himself from the fiery carnage unfolding before him. An unholy, egregious catastrophe of unsynchronized pandemonium acrimoniously exscinded the proliferating rigmarole of iniquity into inclement ruin.

"SHIT, SHIT! FUCK ME!"

A shockwave caused him to collapse backwards. Wooden floorboards snapped and heavy metal groaned. Hell wasn't just let loose, it was given equal constitutionalized rights.

The noise was unbearable. Ear-splitting volumes of utter explosive destruction reigned high and supreme as it obliterated his fragile eardrums.

Detached, rotating blades shredded the floor surrounding him. An uncontrollable wreckage of a former machine smashed through the broken walls, scattering chunks of concrete debris in the air.

Tron braced himself, curling up in a ball while the fabrics of his own reality imploded on itself.

The non-functional helicopter he shot down had spun out of control, only to inevitably crash into him.

Of all the places it could have crash landed in, it chose the high-rise hotel he was hiding out in. Not to mention, it was the 47th floor. The same floor he was now trapped in.

The floor beneath him crumbled, causing a significant portion of it to tilt downwards towards the outside world. There was nothing for Tron to hold on to. He slid alongside falling furniture, leading him to his very own demise.

However, hope was not yet lost. Rather than falling a long way down to his horrific death with his face kissing the hard pavement at a hundred miles per hour; he found a crack in the wall beside him.

Acting fast, he reached for the still-intact wall and grabbed the crack. His legs were left dangling in mid-air. With both of his hands clenched on to the wall, he kept himself stable and away from certain death. It wouldn't last very long.

He turned forward just in time to witness a tea mug shatter in his face. It was then followed by a remote that whacked him. Next up was a cat that meowed aggressively and clawed his cheeks on the way down.

If that wasn't enough already, by the time he looked back, a yellow Volkswagen honked its horns as it drove down the side of the room and narrowly avoided him. Then, he heard a knock on his door.

"Housekeeping!" The heavy-accented feminine voice on the other side called before the door snapped open from the pressure. A poor maid propelled towards him thanks to a random explosion from behind her. She fell to her death while Tron kept his grip on the cracked wall.

Absolute carnage continued to spread around him as one coffee table collapsed and plummeted past him. Atop the table was a Hustler magazine that fell along with the rubble and wreckage.

Tron watched in utter horror and dismay as the porn magazine was far beyond his reach. "God dammit! Kathy Keeton, no!"

The magazine of the hot chick in the bikini faded from view, adding to the fiery inferno of cataclysmic hell and I'm running out of fancy synonyms; help.

He was only delaying his final moments. There was nowhere for him to go from here. He couldn't even climb back up. This is where he'd be trapped for the rest of his very short life.

♩ Dance to the beat, wave your hands together ♫
♫ Come feel the heat, forever and forever ♩

High-pitched anime girls started singing out of nowhere with upbeat techno music. Tron sighed during the chaos, as he knew exactly what it was.

♩ Listen and learn, it is time for prancing ♫
♫ Now we are here with Caramelldansen ♩

Tron struggled to lift a foot up and place it on a solid surface. A fire had broken out inside the building, slowly creeping its way towards him.

♩ O-o-o-oa-oa ♫
♫ O-o-o-oa-oa-a ♩

Finally, his left foot reached high enough to hook itself over a loose piece of floorboard. Now able to safely remove one hand from the wall, he reached for his pocket and found his phone.

♩ So come and move your hips, sing oh-ah-

"Hey baby! What's up?" Tron casually spoke on the phone, concealing any panic he previously had.

His girlfriend was on the other end. He listened to her speak as he felt his hand beginning to ache from holding on.

"Pam's birthday? Damn, she's like thirty-something now, isn't she? I don't really care, to be honest with you. Pam still owes me fifteen dollars."

A microwave lit on fire, falling from the room's kitchen. It narrowly missed him, plummeting to the earth below.

"I'll see if Walmart has anything on sale, or maybe something from Home Depot. She got that new patio recently, right? Yeah, a swing-set could work, I guess. I'll see if Home Depot has one. Wait, shit. I meant to say House Depot to avoid copyright lawsuits."

Suddenly, his hand slipped. He couldn't take it anymore. His body swung backwards, but his left foot was still attached to the floorboard. Now, he was left hanging upside down. Yet through it all, he kept the phone to his ears and remained calm.

"What do you mean there's already a store in California called House Depot? That's not my fault, they should be sued, not me. What's house in Spanish? Casa? Depot El-Casa it is, makes sense considering that's where most of the Mexicans are anyways, outside of Panda Express and Red Roof Inns."

Then, his foot came loose. With nothing keeping him hanging anymore, he began to fall. However, he didn't scream.

"If Jaimie's bringing the cake, we can provide the brownies. We still have a pack of cocoa powder in the pantry, right?"

He was still descending rapidly, approaching his death.

"There's like ten different brands of cocoa powder and I'm not coo-coo for cocoa puffs. What's wrong with store brand? That's like three dollars extra for no reason. Alright, alright, I'll just charge your debit card. Yep, I gotta go now. Love you too, bear."

Casually hanging up the phone, he placed it in his pocket and exhaled.

Then he screamed.

His arms flailed in the heavy wind. There was no chance at survival. Of all the tricks in the book, nothing was saving him from this one. This is where he dies.

However, before we witness Tron's brutal and horrifyingly painful death, I have to let you know that this book is sponsored! That's right, time for a short commercial break. This chapter of Protocol Tron is brought to you by RAID.............

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RAID Bug Spray is not responsible if you decide to spray yourself or mix it with your favorite beverage. You're just a dumbass. Also why am I advertising this when I specifically said I want to avoid copyright infringement? Welp, guess I'm getting sued anyways.

We now return to Chapter 1 of Protocol Tron. Somehow, Tron survived the fall during the commercial break, I have no idea how he did that wtf.

Anyways, another huge chunk from the hotel blew up and crushed a good number of innocent civilians. But Tron's work here was done. His target was dead, and it was time to return home.

He pulled out his phone again, opening the Uber app. With inflation on the rise yet again, he had to pay $100.50 just to get a fifteen-minute-long ride out of here. You'll probably chuckle or read past this thinking it's a joke, but it's not. This actually happened in February of 2025. It sucked. Waited four hours for a ride and for the price to decrease down to $25.

Tron had $100.51 on him so he booked the ride because he didn't feel like waiting four hours for the price to lower.

Straightening his brown leather jacket, he wore his sunglasses and quickly combed his blonde hair with his hands. He rubbed some dirt off his black jeans and tied his black shoes. He browsed through lesbian DeviantArt pictures on his phone and performed a backflip for no reason. Then he finally sat down at a bench and waited for his Uber.

Then, he thought of that swing-set that his girlfriend wanted again. He doesn't have the money for it, but it'd still be nice to get.

Just as he pondered the thought, a white 2007 honda civic appeared. The Pakistani driver named Ahmad Rowak Ibn Mustafa Al-Jafarr Bin Tikka Masala had no problem pulling up to the scene despite the building behind Tron was in complete collapse and had a fire spreading all around.

Tron entered the back of the honda civic, turning to face the driver. "I've got a penny in my wallet, I'll give it to you if you can take me to Depot El-Casa before taking me home. Is that fine?"

The driver, however, shook his head and spoke in a heavy accent. "Brother, you must do the app. You put place on app first. I can't do each and everything."

"Oh." Tron looked at his phone, noticing he was too far away from any wifi connection. His phone was also out of data. "Do you have a hotspot I can use by any chance?"

When the driver shook his head again, Tron sighed. "Alright, give me a minute. I'm gonna see if that hotel still has wifi that I can access. I'll be right back."

He ran back to the burning building. Another chunk of it collapsed nearby. Tron held his phone out, but he cursed loudly when he realized the hotel's wifi wasn't showing up anymore. It must have been disabled somehow.

Storming back into the car, he slouched in his seat. "Just forget it. Man, I should have used Lyft instead."

"Lyft is same, is no good, astaghfurallah. I drive Uber and Lyft."

Tron shook his head as the car finally sped off from the scene. But then, a vibration in his pants caught his attention. He unbuttoned his jeans and reached down. He pulled out a chicken nugget, a vibrator, and classified CIA documents from his pants until he found his hologram disc.

He turned on the disc, and a blue shrouded figure appeared. "Agent Tron, the time has come."

"What's up super secret boss man in charge of agency operations?" Tron spoke loudly while the Pakistani driver ran a red light.

"Report back to headquarters immediately, the entire world is in grave danger and only you can save it."

"Bro I'm tired, can I go see my girlfriend first at least?" Tron asked while the Pakistani driver accidentally crashed through an orphanage.

"What is more important, agent? Big jiggly wiggly titties, or saving the world?"

"Big jiggly wiggly titties and butts." Tron answered back wisely while the Pakistani driver raced away from the pursuing cops and helicopters.

"Well, yes, I suppose so. How about this? I'll bring an OnlyFans girl to our meeting."

Tron smirked. "Alright Director, you've convinced me." He said while the Pakistani driver drove the car off a cliff into shark-infested waters.

"Good. I shall see you soon and brief you on the details in person."

"Bye-bye cupcake." Tron turned the disc off while the Pakistani driver ramped off a crater on the moon with low gravity.

He made up his mind. "Alright Ahmad, take me to the airport. It's time to get this shit on the road."

His Pakistani driver looks at him through the rearview mirror. "Do you change drop off on app?"

"Oh." Tron fumbles. "Fuck it, never mind."

His Pakistani driver finally took him home after a short detour.