A man is sleeping. Suddenly, a loud, echoing monotone ring is heard throughout the room. The noise awakes the man, who slowly sits up. He stretches his arms and cracks his neck to the left. The ring continues, becoming increasingly loud. The man withdraws a small, flat black rectangle from his pocket with his left had and presses the center of the object with his right pointer finger. The ringing abruptly stops. He presses the rectangle several more times and a window appears on the wall. The man looks through the window.
Man: Shit day today.
The man presses the rectangle again and the window disappears. He grabs the rectangle on either side and stretches it until it is several feet wide, letting go once it has nearly reached the width of his own wingspan. The rectangle is left suspended in the air. Reaching into his coat pocket, he begins to pace across the room.
Man: How shall we look today? Red sky? Blue sky? No sky? [He chuckles to himself.] Now that idea didn't work out too well last time.
He removes a paintbrush from his coat and turns toward the floating rectangle. He begins to make large strokes onto it with the brush; with time the strokes begin to get shorter and more frantic. Finally he stops and takes a step back.
Man: Well, this will have to do.
He returns the paintbrush to his pocket and presses the center of the rectangle. It collapses back to its original size and then falls through air, landing in his outstetched hand. He presses it once more and the window opens again. The man approaches the window and looks out.
Man [with a sense of accomplishment] : All sky. [He smiles.] Not a bad idea, if I do say so myself.
He presses the rectangle and vanishes.