You call up the station to complain. The operator seems so concerned that she tells you to wait on the line a bit and you can talk to the station owner. The owner, one Hew Jags, says he is terribly sorry about the McFing appearance. He takes full responsibility. He says that is you come down to the station he in fact will give you something to make up for all that. You agree and walk to the station. It takes you forty minutes to get there. You ask to see Jags and you are led into his office. You sit in a plush leather chair that smells likle wealth and success.
Jags speaks "earlier I said I'm sorry about the McFing content offending you. But really I am not even Hew Jags, I'm the AUTHOR Mystery X! Jags pulls off his latex mask vevealing a shineing plume of light instead of a head. Now I'm writeing you out of the universe, you never even existed motherfucker, how do you like that?".
Before you can answer the deed is done, you never even exsisted in this or any other world.
The End