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WK13
Apr 16, 2020 19:22:00 GMT
Post by carol on Apr 16, 2020 19:22:00 GMT
Motherfucker! Cunt! Shit!
[Carol relaxes into the pilot's chair. She sparks her lighter, lights the tip a joint that hangs dangerously from her lip]
We need a goodstuff, folks!
[She's not so much shouting as emphasizing]
Christ!
[Her chest heaves, might be she's having some sort of attack. She, after a few moments of calming waves of her hands, clockwise, and then counter clockwise, relaxes her lips and sinks her sweet ass deeper into the seat of the pilot's chair]
We are jettisoning Jason Corner's Reason to the far corners of the universe.
[Carol grabs up the capital and tosses it like salad]
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WK13
Apr 25, 2020 23:45:03 GMT
Post by Diamond Dave on Apr 25, 2020 23:45:03 GMT
[Dave sits at Boligard's desk, mask on, looking at the cigarette held in his right hand, wondering what to do with it]
Cousin, examined. Can you hear me? Through this fucking mask? Right?
[We can see his eyes smiling]
Okay, this capital is ridged. Example, "Uneasiness crept over him as he licked his lips until..." Uneasiness creeping? Sorry, cousin, I love story telling so much I can't deal with any uneasiness creeping anywhere. sorry. So.
[Dave heaves out a breath, shakes his head]
Christina Francine's capital has been flushed, players.
[Dave grabs up the current capital and he twists it and wads it up and crumples it and he shreds it and rubs dirt into it and throttles it, shakes it good]
That capital be gone, friends.
God fuck. I really want a cigarette, friends.
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WK13
Apr 29, 2020 1:10:33 GMT
Post by carol on Apr 29, 2020 1:10:33 GMT
[Carol tumbles a pall mall from Doomey's stash, and she offers it to David. He takes the cigarette, nods his head and puts his palms to-fucking-together. He leans back in DePlancher's chair and puts fire to the tip of the cigarette, sucking in some real sweet smoke. Carol looks down on the capital she's been examining. She speed examines for a couple minutes, and she twists her nose, shakes her head, makes her hair wave like an ocean tides. Ebb and flow. Right?]
Mark Jones's The Retreat is going to the trash heap, ladies and gentlemen. I am sorry. But...
[Carol tears the current capital up and then she tears it up again and then she tosses the scraps of capital to her left, and then she tosses the torn capital to her right, and it's a confetti wonderland, strips of capital raining down]
It's been Portholed, folks.
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