'Some sort of alien spacecraft is attacking a terrace of houses. It is small enough that I am able to shut it inside the back door of someone’s house. The spacecraft goes about converting the human race in to Combine-style robots despite my clever defensive strategy. Later, hiding in some waterfront properties in a disused docklands-style area, the few remaining humans attempt to form a resistance; instead of helping out, I am hunting an elderly Rik Mayall through flood drains whilst the man is extinguished from existence by robots I sort-of helped create.'
Random bits of construction and destruction...assorted shorter and shorter fiction lets call it. Mainly from being asleep.