The batteries have been resurrected!
"Mr. Battery, a word?" called a voice behind Mr. Battery.
"Don't have any glossies on me, so no autographs today, sorry," said Mr. Battery.
"I've actually got my own glossies, and an autograph's not what I'm after. I'm looking for money," said the voice. There was something about its confidence that made Mr. Battery stop. Being a big celebrity as he was, he had grown accustomed to people addressing him nervously.
In fact, Mr. Battery liked it that way, so it was with a look of disdain on his face that he turned around to see who had been calling after him. It was a young man, no older than 22, in a black sweatshirt. "What did you say to me?" Mr. Battery asked.
"I said I want some money, and I think after you've seen these photos, you'll oblige," said the young man.
"What are you talking about?" Mr. Battery asked.
"I got photos. Of you. In an odd position in an eneloop charger."
Mr. Battery laughed. "Ha! You fool! That's my house! It's a 4-position charger that charges in me in 5 hours or less, typically! Of course I was there! I live there with my wife and two kids!"
"Yes, but then who are they?" the young man asked, pulling from his hoodie's front pocket a photograph showing Mr. Battery cavorting with two voluptous D batteries.
Mr. Battery's bright orange color disappeared from his face. "I'll give you anything, anything you want," he said.