Peter Glass owned a burner phone, got it from a guy who got it from a guy.
Peter used the burner phone to call random numbers from a thick sheet printed at a now defunct telemarketer.
He wouldn’t speak to humans, he’d hang up.
When he got a voicemail he calmly and confidently, in a strong, masculine voice told the machine, and whoever listened to it that the world would end in three days if they didn’t repent.
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