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After years of scaring the bejesus out of the planet, we’ve finally found out what freaks out Stephen King.  It’s paying $20 a month for a blue tick on his Twitter account.

Yes, this week, The Kingmeister reacted jumpily when Elon’s proposed an annual $240 ‘blue tick’ charge, tweeting:

“Fuck that, they should pay me. If that gets instituted, I’m gone like Enron.”

Now we’ve seen what spooks the master of horror – what can we expect in his future works?

  • A famous author cowers in his locked bathroom as Elon Musk hacks at his bathroom door, brandishing an invoice for $20, and yells: ‘Heeeeere’s Elon!’
  • A crazed Kathy Bates hobbles a famous writer, after he is involved in a car crash. His life becomes a living hell, as he is tied to a bed, and is forced to listen to her explaining why a man who can afford $44 billion for a social media company, needs a monthly payment of $8.
  • A child is called over to a storm drain, summoned by a child-killing demon-clown with sharp-teeth. Just as Pennywise (the clown) is about to sink his teeth into the child’s arm, he is driven back screaming into the depths of the sewer, as the child produces a small invoice from a social media company. Returning to the underworld – the terrified demon clutches his ears, unable to avoid the child’s repeated, chilling words ‘Twitter cannot rely entirely on advertisers.’
  • An insane Musk, thumping away at his typewriter, writes over and over: ‘all tweeting and no pay makes Elon a glum boy.’
  • In the town of Salem’s Lot, the dead turn in their graves at the thought of paying for social media. In fact they turn so much, that they rise from their graves by night, and start feasting on human flesh. And it’s all Elon Musk’s fault.
  • A girl called Carrie, who when she is asked to pay a charge for tweeting, exacts revenge by using her telekinesis powers to slam and lock all the doors of the Twitter offices, and burns the owners to death.
  • A zombie cat from the local pet sematary, overruns the Tesla factory, feasting on the flesh of any wax-faced South African businessmen it can find. And no-one is sad, or tries to stop it. They merely applaud.