Prelude


B: C'mon snowpocalypse, Bottle needs a day of not dealing with it. 

S: And i would like to mention that we are being highly underutilized. 

B: Naaaaaaaawwwww, c'mon Sandra, don't make me play with my imaginary friends. No offense, but i was really enjoying not needing to imagineer any of you weirdos. All it ever gets me is a trip to the white room and a completely conundrifying conversation with a couple gray blobs. See? I'm already alliterating aloud again. Atrocious! 

S: Shut up, Bottle. I just thought since you have a vast assortment of records arriving, you might include us to alleviate the incredible boredom we are suffering. 

B: not knowing what it's like to be bored, i can only imagine. Alright fine, but i'm all rusty car parts in the plot conceiving department. Wouldn't even want to hazard a guess as to when/which timelines you guys are traversing. Any suggestions? 

S: that's not my department. 

B: which one's yours? Eyebrows, jeez lady! Right, right, the keeping everyone playing nice in the litterbox department. I suppose i have been a bit ostrichy even though hiding their heads in the sand is not a thing ostriches do. I can't even remember who's all here. 

S: well, i'm here of course. 

B: goes with you saying, sure. 

S: Skip is still here correcting typos as needed, but even though he'd never admit it he not at all secretly wishes there were a real project in the works. Compy likewise seems to be stuck in a loop of collecting and purging bits and pieces of who knows what without any discernable filter criteria. 

B: Skip's still here? 

S: everyone's still here somewhere, Bottle. One way escalator, prisoners in the mind palace, rotating hallways, any of this ringing a bell? 

B: oh yeah! Now i remember. Frickin' nightmare. 

S: indeed. 

B: boney guy, old what's his bones, tall, no hair follicles, is he still here? 

S: Yes, GREGORY is still scavenging the closets for machines that make sounds, but since you stopped acquiring gear for him to "gasm" upon- 

B: tee hee - 

S: uh-huh, he is growing dangerously fidgety if you catch my drift. Which reminds me, the minions are becoming less and less frequent visitors since we published Fragile Moments and you went on headphone staycation, and the infrastructure is, shall we say, fading like the macguffin photo in Back To The Future. We still don't know where- 

B: is the photo really the mcmuffin, though? I mean, isn't the macguffin actually the Libyan terrorists- 

S: REGARDLESS, we have not seen nor heard from Carl or his dog, though as i heard myself mention, they are all here somewhere.... 

B: am i supposed to fill that elipsis? I don't know. Sounds like you're saying this free ballin' thing isn't working out for you. Well, i got news for you, i don't wanna be the penis potato, and you can't make me! 

S: nobody said you have to boss us around, we just need a larger goal to cooperatively achieve. We can't leave, but we also can't just do nothing. 

B: use it or lose it kind of thing? Ok, i guess that makes sense. But i'm just a snarky critical humorist with a hyperbole fetish. I don't have an ambitious bone in my body. I'm Rock'n'Roll High School without the kicks or the chicks; i just wanna be sedated and woken up for the good parts, but i will totally not be upset if you let me sleep through most of those as well. 

S: Damnit, Bottle! If i had a boot within reach i wouldn't know whether to throw it at you or kick you back to last October. Either way i'd happily ruin a perfectly good boot to not have to go back to my own castle and princess the shit out of everyone! 

B: well, when you put it that way... it just so happens i have a newly acquired album with a photo of an American assault rifle pointed at the head of a not particularly happy Viet Cong woman. How's that sound for fun? 

S: ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FU- 

B: relax, America is definitely the bad guy in that context, but it will equally definitely take some 'splainin. I wasn't gonna just jump right in with that, i mean i totally might have, but i promise i won't. We'll build up to it with emaciated dogs, or insane adolescents, or completely normal underground rap, or something. It's not all doom and nihilistic gloom, but this batch of records is not for the faint-hearted. Still wanna tag along? 

S: i just told you i was nauseatingly bored, as long as i won't be bored i can handle the nausea. 

B: i hope you're right, mostly 'cause i'm fresh out of buckets. Don't say i didn't warn you. Geronimo and the such like....

Debt Neglector

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