the quantum raccoons in my ceiling vents have already intercepted your message. They're working with the microwave spirits to triangulate your position, but we’ve got to be careful. The toaster keeps humming Morse code, probably warning me about the lizard men disguised as lamps. Make sure your captor isn’t a sentient algorithm running simulations. If anything gets weird, blink out ‘LOL’ in Morse and snort twice to signal the hidden banana operatives—otherwise, reality might fragment and we’ll need backup from the left sock dimension. Hang tight. The pigeons are circling

.........∩＿＿＿∩
.....| ノ　　　　 ヽ../⌒)
... /⌒) (ﾟ)　　(ﾟ)　|　.|　　　　　▂ ▪　▂▄▅▆▇■▀▀〓◣▬ ▪ ￭ … ． +REP
.../　/　 ( _●_)　 ミ/　　．▂▅■▀ ▪ ￭　▂¨ ∵▃ ▪ ・ +REP
.（　　ヽ|∪|　　／　　　◢▇█▀　¨▂▄▅▆▇██■■〓◥◣▄ +REP
....＼　　 ヽノ　/　　￭ ▂▅██▅▆▇██■〓▀▀ ◥◣ ∴ ▪ ． +REP
...../　　　　/　▅▇███████▀ ▪ ∴ …．▅　￭　 ◥◣ +REP
....|　　　_つ◥▅▆▇████████▆▃▂　 ▪ ￭▂▄▃▄▂ +REP
....|　 /ω＼　＼ ￭　 ¨ ▀▀▀■▀▀▀ ▪ ￭ ∴‥ +REP
....|　/ 　　　 )　 )
.....∪　 　　 （　 ＼
　　　　 　　 ＼＿)

⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣷⡄
⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣆
⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠁⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆
⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇
⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⢻⣿⣯⡙⠉⠀⣠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡇⢠⡇⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣠⡶⢀⣤⣿⣿⣧⠘⠟⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏
⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⠇⢰⣿⠇⠘⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⠟⠁