Cheap Gothic Soap Opera, Part 64

The room had the smell of TV writers. Musk and dank. Like an overheated burrito left in someone's locker for too long. It was a good thing Tony had forgotten how to breath or he would have passed out again.
He sensed something fishy was afoot, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
"Maybe that tentacled monstrosity will have the answers I need" he thought as he reached for the trap-door. But just as soon as he did, he was tackled by the writers.
"You can't go out there!" said one.
"You'll get killed!" said another.
"But I'm really getting hungry!" Zy-L'pxrugRwpt, Destroyer of Disobedient Writers, groaned through the trap door.
Tony stood up, getting impatient. "Say what you want, that monstrosity makes the most compelling argument right now." Tony reached for the door again. "Besides, I don't even know why you guys are striking."
"well"
"um"
"murble furble mumble"
Sbrach spoke sheepishly, "It's sort of hard to explain. Well actually not really. We're just embarrassed to tell you." He walked towards a case in the corner of the room.
"dare you?"
"does he dare?"
"I say!"
"murble furble mumble!"
He opened the case, releasing an humming orange glow throughout the room. All the writer's gasped.
"What's that?" Tony asked, barely interested.
"It's the writing box!" said Sbrach! in awe, "It contains otherworldly spirits that give us a complete script for a television episode at 5:00 every day, and we found it in a dumpster. But ever since a few months ago, when SOMEONE left it open over night-"
"my bad!"
"-the spirits have stopped giving us scripts. And then everything on the set became tentacled and non-euclidean. We tried writing a few episodes on our own, but they were terrible-"
"terrible!"
"awful!"
"oh the humanity!"
"murble furble mumble!!"
"-so we decided to go on strike. And now Zy-L'pxrugRwpt, Destroyer of Disobedient Writers is trying to kill/negotiate with us."
"Why don't you just talk with Zy-L'pxrugRwpt, Destroyer of Disobedient Writers?" asked Tony.
"That will not be necessary," said Sbrach! oddly ominously, "For you see, the box spirits are angry, and the only way to appease them is...a sacrifice! And we have decided that that sacrifice will be you."
"What!?"
"a sacrifice!"
"an end to this maddness!"
"bless the box spirits!"
"murble furble mumble!!!!"
"Hey, is that guy okay?" aked Tony.
"Oh. That also sort of started happening after we left box open," replied Sbrach! "Or he's just insane. But that's nothing for you to worry about. You're to be sacrificed!" And with that, all the writers shoved Tony into the humming, glowing, oddly pie-smelling box.

(OP: Nate, January 11 2007)