[TT] One day, you deliberately miss your usual stop on the subway, and ride the train to the end of the line.
[Read in a low, husky, scary, mysterious old man's voice]
Horrors. Horrors await the one who reaches the end of the line. I have been to the end of the line, and trust me, you never want to know what is lurking there. Reality itself bends and falls apart in that place. How else do you think trains manage to turn around to drive in the opposite direction?
The end of the line is a place infested with angry cashiers, mean old ladies, fat conductors, and scary one eyed bums. This is where they come from, this is where they spawn. Have you ever wondered about the past of crazy homeless people whom you can see here and there, throwing cats at people? Well, turns out they do not have a past. They emerge just as they are, at the moment of their birth. At the end of the line.
Have you noticed that you have never seen baby pigeons? You can only see the grown up birds that look exactly the same. That is because baby pigeons do not exist. At the end of the line you can find the pigeon-hive, and at the center of it is a pigeon-queen, and it reproduces via mitosis, it divides like cells, producing more and more pigeons.
And cops. Do you know of a stereotype of a fat cop eating a doughnut and drinking coffee? They come to us from a portal into a different cop-dimension. They are aliens who come here to feed, because heir homeworld has run put of natural coffee and doughnut resources. I have seen them enter. At the end of the line.
I have also met another version of myself. It was my self that decided to ride a train to the end on a different day. I had to fight him to death, because we both knew that only one of us can return.
No, my friend. You never want to know what is lurking at the end of the line.