Adam Thompson boarded the city bus with the casual air of someone who had mastered infinite dimensions but was desperately, painfully bored.
Ah… mortals crammed together, pretending this is acceptable travel. Predictable. Fragile. Yet… full of entertainment potential.
A driver glanced at him nervously. "Uh… tickets, sir?"
Adam waved a hand. The fare machine dissolved into a cloud of tiny, dancing coins. Tickets… unnecessary.
A man grumbled behind him. "Hey! What's going on?!"
Exactly.
Adam strolled down the aisle. Each seat squeaked in exaggerated horror as he passed. A baby wailed. A dog in a backpack barked rhythmically. Excellent.
He tapped a pole. Suddenly, it elongated, twisting into a spiral slide that stretched from the front to the back of the bus. Passengers squealed as their shopping bags gently spiraled along.
"This… this is impossible!" someone shouted.
Exactly.
A woman's phone levitated and projected a tiny holographic concert, complete with dancing pigeons and tap-dancing cupcakes. "What… how?!" she screamed.
Adam yawned. Yes. Perfect reaction. Mortals… fragile, amusing, and completely predictable.
He flicked his fingers. The bus's air vents began puffing harmless, glittering smoke rings shaped like unicorns. Each passenger instinctively tried to pop them, often missing entirely. Chaos… entertaining.
A man clutched his coffee. Adam pointed. The liquid defied gravity, forming a tiny, swirling galaxy above the cup. "Sir! My coffee!"
Exactly.
Adam leaned casually on a seat. Passengers… fragile mortals providing entertainment without realizing it. Delightful.
He tapped the floor. Tiles transformed into a conveyor belt, gently moving passengers in random directions. A child laughed hysterically. Engagement level… perfect.
A pigeon flew through the window and landed on his shoulder. Yes… witness. Audience. Chaos appreciated.
The elderly woman at the back tried to knit. Her yarn began forming a complex, self-moving pattern that wrapped around seats and poles. "I… I can't—" she stammered.
Exactly.
Adam pointed at a vending machine. Snacks sprouted tiny legs and began a synchronized march down the aisle, avoiding passengers with exaggerated bows.
"This… is absurd!" someone yelled.
Insanity… delightful.
He approached the emergency exit. A tiny portal opened, and several stray cats jumped through, performing mild acrobatics before landing gracefully on passengers' laps.
A man holding a briefcase screamed, "My… my documents!"
Collateral damage… amusing.
Adam sipped a glowing cup of coffee he had conjured midair. The mortal world… absurd. Humans… terrified and bewildered. Chaos… bountiful. And I… am still very, very bored.
He tapped a strap hanging from the ceiling. All straps began forming intricate knots, weaving themselves into tiny sculptures of dragons, sandwiches, and one particularly judgmental flamingo.
A child tugged on his coat. "Sir… can you make my toy car race?"
Adam crouched. "Of course. But it must navigate the labyrinth of chaos." The toy car zipped through the aisle, narrowly avoiding feet, shopping bags, and a soda fountain that had spontaneously erupted in glitter.
Passengers screamed, laughed, and panicked simultaneously. Exactly. Emotional variety… essential.
The bus jolted around a corner. Adam's hair barely moved. Mortals… fragile. Transport… hilarious. Chaos… excellent.
He glanced out the window. A street performer panicked as a flock of pigeons began performing coordinated aerial flips. Adam smiled. Entertainment… omnipresent.
From the back, a man shouted, "Call the authorities! This is madness!"
Adam waved lazily. "Yes. Call them. Observe mortals responding to controlled chaos. Delightful."
A child's balloon transformed into a tiny dragon that chased a paper airplane down the aisle. Yes… exactly the level of absurdity required.
Adam leaned back, sipping another glowing coffee. Public transport… transformed. Humans… screaming, bewildered, and entertained. Chaos… abundant. And I… am still very, very bored.
He grinned. Every bus, every train, every pigeon, every snack… will be exploited to unbore me. And mortals… will never, ever be ready for what's coming next.