[[A person walks toward their computer desk as the screen indicates "new chat message."]]

[[The screen shows a text conversation (where lines are contained in speech bubble boxes) between White Hat Guy and the first person.]]

WHG: Can't sleep. Stupid dogs keep barking.
          FJAFJKLDWSKF7JKFDJ

FP: Ugh, I'm sorry. Maybe you could...
      ...OK, wait. I have to ask. 
      How did you hit a "7" in the middle there?

WHG: Huh?
          I was just randomly keyboard mashing.

FP: Sorry, right.

WHG: Anyway,

FP: ...I know this is silly, but like... all your hands were clearly on the home row.
     I don't get how one finger could have stretched up to the "7."

WHG: Why do you always fixate on these bizarre details?

FG: I don't know.
      Sorry.

WHG: It's weird, is all.
         
[[A giant spider dangles from the ceiling, typing at a laptop on a desk, while White Hat Guy is suspended upside down, wrapped in spider thread. The chair lies on the floor on its side. The conversation continues on the computer.]]
Spider:I am a normal human typing with my human hands.
FP: Yeah, of course. 
      I know.
((MMM!! MMPH!!!))
 
{{Title text: WHY DON'T YOU COME HANG OUT INSIDE MY HOUSE. WE CAN COOK BREAD AND CHAT ABOUT OUR INTERNAL SKELETONS.}}