It was like those trashy programs that not only auto-download and self-replicate, but also pop up endless videos and smear them right across your face.
For example, an endless stream of gym bros with Harley Alben's delicate face plastered on, grinning lecherously and shouting "I love your mom!", ripping open their clothes to show off the gym bro body and the Beast under their skirts.
Countless people with Harley Alben's face started shouting, "Hello, national producers, everyone"...
And then even more, an infinite swarm of "Harley Alben"s, their faces like some Street King meme, appearing in one bizarrely twisted frame after another.
All this information morphed into a cyber Tomie, one Harley Alben head after another completely flooding her sea of soul; at this moment, the Patriarch of the Alben Family wanted to scream in terror, to howl in agony, but with the ritual utterly crammed full of junk data, she simply couldn't make any such movement.
