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wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/02 11:36 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey looks a little messed up. he sips some amber and sucks some sweet smoke from the tip of his pall mall. he thumbs in Iggy Pop's New Values, and the the speakers up in the rafters throb and shake and pulse. doomey gets up from the pilot's chair and he slides across the glass tiles. he lifts a knee, and then he stomps out a wild beat, spins and twirls, his arms raised, his mouth twisted in a crazy grin]
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/02 20:54 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol slips into the pilot's chair as Boligard dances like a white guy to Iggy's album. Doomey's thumbed up the Bose so loud that the cherrywood rumbles, and Carol places her palms on the desktop, closes her eyes, absorbs the throb, and she nods her head to the beat. After a few measures she shakes her head, and she gathers up the current capital and lays it out in front of her on the desk]

Okay. Pretty sure this is not how a literary magazine is supposed to opperate, what with the local slush pile enthusiast going all apeshit on the colored glass tiles in the middle of the workroom...

[She smiles]

He's a good man, folks. But, anyway, we are now examining Lisa Clark's submission Strung Abalone. Just wish the desk would stop stop jumping around.

[Carol stands and leans in and examines the current capital]
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/06 21:25 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey thieves into the pilot's chair, sneaky, and he straightens, his butt firmly pressed into the pilot's chair sweet softness]

so, yeah, cousins, lisa clark's strung abalone has been Portholed. just wasn't good enough, yo.

[doomey grabs up the cap and he folds it. he folds it on the desktop, and he folds it again. and he folds it again, cousin. he's got the capital down to a dime, and he folds it again. the cap goes awol. where's it, right? doomey raises his hands, looks around]

the shit's gone down the pipe, cousin.
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/09 21:11 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey spins around in the pilot's chair, the Isley Brothers Live It Up exploding from the speakers in the rafters. doomey rights his-badass-self, plants his palms on the cherrywood desktop, and he smiles a Tom Waits smile into the camera that no one else can see]

we will now examine JB's The Phoenix. we will, um, lay it out on the desktop and, well, look it over sort of. or whatever.

[he spreads the current capital out on the desktop, and he pulls out a hunting blade from inside his suitcoat, and he stabs its tip through the first page of the cap into the cherrywood's desktop. he leans back into the pilot's chair]

oh, so fucking satisfying. that first prick.
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/10 20:44 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol's been pacing back and forth behind the cherrywood, wringing her hands, slapping her left nipple on occasion, twisting her lips. She settles behind Doomey, sways, looms over his shoulder and gazes at the fresh capital. She squints her eyes and takes in the prose like a meat grinder]
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/10 20:57 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey grabs the hilt of the blade stuck into the cherrywood's desktop, and he lifts it from the wood, like that knight dude lifting the sword from the stone, right? doomey tosses the blade over his shoulder. the blade's knifetip sinks into the grain of the wardrobe behind the cherrywood]

girl, i see you creeping up on me.

[stage right, the cleaning closet door opens]
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/10 21:41 By: Jesus Status: Admin  
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[Jesus walks out from the cleaning closet dressed in his tighty whites. He looks clean, like maybe he found a shower in the depths and halls and underbasements of the Floor (which is prob truth, cousin). He looks confused, himself reduced to a man wearing underwear in a strange room that uses alot of hot spotlights. He walks over to the wardrobe, opens the left door. He reaches inside and grabs a cold Oranjeboom. Jesus reaches back and scratches his left buttcheek. He yawns. He pops open the beer and upends it into his maw. Gulp gulp gulp, pretty righteous. Jesus finishes the beer, shakes his head, crushes the empty beer can in his fist, and he staggers to the glass tiles, tossing the empty beer to the ghost-draped edges of the Floor]
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/12 19:50 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey leans forward in the pilot's chair]

dude. you're in your underwear. fuck's sake. get clothed, you beast.
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/12 20:00 By: Jesus Status: Admin  
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[Jesus looks over at Boligard. He blinks, and he looks down at himself]

Oh for Pete's sake. I didn't think anyone was here. Red in the face, peeps.

[Jesus backs his ass toward the cleaning closet door]

Isn't it late? I thought it was like four A.M.

[Jesus calms his backwardness, and he rushes the wardrobe. He opens the left door and grabs up a couple few Oranjebooms and then turns tail and runs to the cleaning closet. He shuts the door firmly]
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/12 20:07 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey stares at the cleaning closet door. he twists his lips]

okay, that was just not needed, right? might be we need to look into christ's mental health. is there a way we could call in someone to examine the health of Jesus's mental state, DeP?

[doomey gazes across the Floor. he locks eyes with DePlancher. he shakes his neck left to right]

earth to DeP.
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Re:wk 2.3
Date: 2018/01/12 21:20 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol stomps out onto the glass tiles, the colors erupt beneath her boot steps, what look like faery dust puffs and swirls about, and she comes up against the front of the cherrywood, leans in]

Peacock's the phoenix has gone Portholed.

[Carol pushes off the cherrywood]

God christ. I hate telling people they haven't joined the parade. I fucking hate it. I might have to go back to the camps.

[Carol looks at the camera that noone else can see]

Kidding, cousins.
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