The Super Massive Awesome Plan for
World Destruction

The end of the world lived in a recycled jam jar atop a bookshelf, stashed between a blue dragon made of tin and a cat that was really a pen. Or maybe it was a pen that was really a cat.
There could be no more innocuous hiding place for it to bide its time, multiply and grow until it was ready to do what it had dreamed of doing since the first sentient cell had come to life on a forgotten clump of decaffeinated coffee. Well, what they had dreamed of doing. They were a community, of course—a colony, one might say.