7-277 [Frook 7, chapter 2.7, brick 7]

 The semireal-life literary agent, too shocked to find words to express himself or even look to the freelance novelist for a hint of advice on how to verbalize his feelings, simply stared, as the novelette that might have made him rich if the man who'd never had a name in the cornfield that wished he had one hadn't ever existed, hit 451 degrees farenheit, unexpectedly igning the 17 buckets of gasoline the drunk slash stoned truck driver had failed to remove from the truck following his death when the truck crashed into the side rail by the new highway paved straight through the cornfield that would now have to completely repaved for the debrit from the playground of you know what? This story isn't heading anywhere it wasn't heading 97 bricks ago, and it's not going to !@#$ing start now.
 The mushroom cloud (let's forget the fact that 17 buckets of gasoline aren't the slightest bit capable of producing a mushroom cloud) obliterated the cornfield completely. Not the fictional cornfield in the would-be brilliant novelette that was destroyed long (or at least seconds) before the mushroom cloud began (supposing that we don't suppose that "before the mushroom cloud began" could refer to the general temporal process leading up to the mushroom cloud, which would, indeed, include the destruction of the fictional cornfield just seconds before the 17 buckets of gasoline snowballed this ridiculous tangent), but rather, the real-life cornfield in the middle of Springfield Arizona where they all were, in the most surreal scene to ever happen in real life.
 And what went with it? What went with the final destruction of the cornfield, the novelette, and the NSA agents psychoanalyzing the writing of the 98 (base 10, obviously) bricks (which are rearrangable modules of prose, if you're actually tuning in to the very first time on this particular brick, which would be incredibly unlikely, but not as unlikely as a quantum event that would turn enough gasoline molecules into plutonium to cause a mushroom cloud) of this and the past nova (ah !@#$, I did all this to get a pun in with super"nova" and a Frangles "nova" but alas, it's too late), e.g. via supposing that technically, a mushroom cloud could refer to the cloud in the sky above the cornfield that had always resembled a mushroom, which they'd know if they were competent to hack the entire nova and not just this particular brick (idiots) (<<irony) (<<legal protection)? <I have absolutely no idea if that sentence was grammatically parsable>
 What went with them all? The reality they were all in. For the final twist of the story of the man and the cornfield and everything <insert standard Hitchhikers fair use rant>, was that everyone in real life...
 everyone...
 everywhere...
 (in real life)...
 as a single self-sustinant whole...
 (well not really everyone)
 (just basically the human race)
 (not all the humans in space-time)
 (but more just the 7,000,000+ people on Earth)
 (except Kyle Kirby)
 (that's a real killer if you're intimate with Frangles)
 Were the sequel.

 <...>
 <um... I was supposed to transition this to science-fiction somehow, but I'm not quite sure where I went wrong. See, the next nova is supposed to be science-fiction, and then super-science-fiction, or super-sifff, or something, does "sifff" one 'f' or 'two', ah f@#$ it, I didn't get paid !@#$ for this !@#$, and I'm not going to start making sense oh hey orbo wait where the hell did you get 17 buckets of !@#%#$%#%>