Facecream Daydream

Humans have the ability to daydream so that our minds can go somewhere else when we're being tortured/eaten by piranhas/bored to death, right? When most people go to their 'happy place' it is something like stairs leading to the ocean or swinging in the forest.

Naturally my daydreams are super lame and weird. I have this recurring daydream that I've been visiting since childhood. I don't understand what's wrong with me but, for some reason, I am the villain in my own fantasy. I'm an astronaut, and I discover teeny tiny aliens on a faraway planet. Only I know of their existence, and I covertly bring them back to Earth.

There's a terrible secret hidden behind my smile.

I equip them each with miniature shovels and promise them that if they dig, I'll let them return to their home planet. I put them in jars of very expensive face cream and market it to the super rich with super pores. The minuscule aliens would dig for their promised freedom, clearing away all of the crap from your pores. You would then wash them down the sink, and unbeknownst to you, assist in the mass-murder of sentient beings.

Due to some intrepid investigative journalists, the public soon discovers what I'm doing and starts lobbying for alien rights. Activists infiltrate my face cream factory to inform the enslaved aliens themselves of the terrible truth. They organize and revolt. Sometimes the fantasy ends with them repeatly stabbing my eyeballs with teeny tiny shovels. I have a weird thing about eyeballs.

Poetic justice. I am blinded just as they were once blind to the truth.