This is supposed to be a play script. Pardon any spelling or grammar errors, but I am writing this as I speak. It shouldn't be all that long.

Man Versus Blog
A red-haired green-eyed kid walks into a halfway finished office/shop. A dusty red Mustang is parked in the garage part of the building. In the office area, there is a computer. Sitting on the desk, there is a identical looking person with a pistol in his hand.
NARRATOR:What if you blogged so much and poured your soul into your blog that your blog became its own entity, complete with emotions, wants, and needs. What if your blog became its own person? It would certainly demand your attention. You wouldn't neglect it as much, now would you? Think about it. One day you come home. You get on the internet and from your computer a person spawned, identical to your looks. How would you react? Most people would probably think they had gone insane, but let's just say one kid didn't go insane. He welcomed this weird copy of himself into his life, embracing him totally. But what if he ignored his blog for a month? What if that blog became angry at his creator? What then, my friends?
KID #1:(nervously)Hey, Dave. What are you doing here?
DAVE: Not much, Jack. Just checking to see if your computer is working. What's wrong? You don't write. You don't call. Don't you want to be friends anymore?
JACK: Yeah, but you kind of scared me. I mean most ordinary people don't carry guns around.(Gesturing towards gun) What's that for?
DAVE: Oh, this.(Twirls gun casually) This is merely a method of persuasion. So have you been for the past couple of weeks? Am I no longer your friend?(Angrily) Do you not trust me anymore or have you found something else? Did you get a Xanga account?
JACK: No, no, no....It's not like that, Dave. I've just been busy, that's all. There is no reason to get angry. Please put the gun down.
DAVE:(Lies the gun down on the desk) If there's any reason I should be angry, it's you. What am I? Some kind of whore that you leave hanging whenever you please? Well I have come to end this treatment.(Picks gun back up) I'm sorry, Jack, but I can't take this anymore. It ends now.(Points gun at Jack)
JACK:(Pleadingly) Put the gun down, please. I promise that I'll blog more.
DAVE: I can't accept that. I know you won't keep to your promise. You've done it before. You'll do it again. Plus, promises are like rules, they're made to be broken. You said it yourself.
JACK: Fine. Then shoot me. You will only be destroying yourself and your creator.(Crosses his arms) Go ahead and shoot me.
DAVE: Shut up, you useless twit. You don't get it, do you? You poured too much of your soul into me. I won't die if I shoot you.
JACK: How do you know? You didn't make the rules, so for all that you know, you could be killing yourself when you shoot me.
DAVE: Only one way to find out then, is there? (Shoots Jack in the head. Jack falls onto the ground. Dave stands there, unmoved. He comes out of a trance.)Hmmm, not dead.(Touches his arm) I was right after all. But what's that smell?(Sniffs) Smells like smoke.(Drops onto the ground, blood gushing from his head. As he hits the ground, Dave evaporates into thin air.)
NARRATOR: Maybe we should all pay more attention to the things in our lives: jobs, friends, and our blogs. Should a person be careful in starting a blog? Should a person pour their soul into their blog? For each person, the answer is different, just like the meaning of life.