Sandra's Interlude

S: Oh, shut up, Bottle. No one has unfollowed you. 

B: Darn, i'll have to try harder. I was really just seeing if i could coax you out of your office. Wanna play a game? 

S: No, Jigsaw, i don't. 

B: The puppet's name is actually Billy, but close enough. GREGORY didn't bite, but i know he's lurking around here somewhere. Whaddya think i summoned Skip with? It's obtusely hidden in my chemtrails [wink]. 

S: Did you seriously just wink at me? 

B: Nope, i unseriously winked. You're a princess, am i wrong? 

S: No, you're right, the chlorine to urine ratio is 60/40 on a good day. I dunno, something surreptitiously Socialist? 

B: You've still got it. 

S: My cancer is sun. Why now? 

B: I wanna be real. Not necessarily successful, but actually fund some records. 

S: Look, i hate Milton as much as anyone, but he's not wrong. The music you publish is terrible. The books are still full of typos and some of the page numbers in those indexes are, to use your word, wackadoodle. 

B: So? I don't need to be good at it, i want to DO IT. Preferably without losing too much money, but surely someone will let me pay for half a run of CDs outright.

S: You don't have that kind of capital. 

B: Don't need it. This isn't a get rich tomorrow play, this is long-term personal investing without the stealing your intellectual property part. You better than anybody understand the problem with business as usual. 1) ridiculous overhead, 2) imaginary legal manipulation of cash flow, 3) lying to everyone 3 different ways all the time, 4) only publishing what a rich guy already paid for and desperately trying to exceed the interest payments. I don't want to own anybody's music or rights, i want to own physical product i can sell to a future person who randomly wants to buy it. You really think i couldn't sleaze my way into a few hundred book sales if i were willing to go full conspiracy? 

S: I'm going to call that one a coin flip. It's certainly possible. 

B: Ok, then, it's settled. We're doing it, i just need one favor. 

S: That depends on the favor. 

B: We gotta unboulder the Compiler from the garbage grotto. I can't make a usable shop page to save my death, let alone my life. We're gonna need a proper website that doesn't exist inside the space of a square, or at the very least a secure folder in the starcastle. 

S: I'll see what i can arrange. You really liked that Lana del Rey album? 

B: Yeah, it's an objectively stellar album, and at no point did she tell me how i'm supposed to feel about it. That's all her doing her for everyone to watch. It's totally believable from where i'm sitting. 

S: Interesting. Ok, then. No promises. 

B: No assumptions. Toodles. 

S: That's my line. 

B: A few of mine have been co-opted, you get used to it. Ouch, did you sharpen those eyebrows during intermission? 

S: Why yes, thanks for noticing. Now, proper toodles this time. I'll be in my office. Don't hesitate to not need me for a while. 

B: Yes, Ma'am.

Combat Rock

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