This past weekend, I hid in my room like it was a nuclear drill ( Read more... )

[Clapet comes on screen. There's a few sacks in the background, but not as many as there once were. He's huddled inside his brown cardigan, and running his thumb over a slightly torn picture. You can't see what the picture is, but it looks like it was once glued to something and ripped off. There's some milk bottles in the foreground. He looks ( Read more... )

You all take everything so much for granted around here. Shut up complaining.

Do you have something to eat? Yes. Do you have somewhere to sleep? Yes. Do you have the guarantee that you'll come back to life, even if you've been gutted like a pig? Yes ( Read more... )

What happened this week? Nothing happened to me, but this seems to be... common around here.

What else so unusual is common around here? Aside from changing appearance and eating money.

Cassie Holmes? I hear you're my warden. My reservations with that concept aside, I want to offer my services as a butcher to the kitchen. I expect something in ( Read more... )

[A very angry Frenchman comes on.]

OU EST MES COUTEAUS?! ... [He trails off, and there’s the clear sound of stuff being desperately moved about]

Ils n’est pas ici... MERDE.[There's the sound of scattering lentils across a desk whilst he has another quick search and figures out how to use his communicator. Finally, the camera comes on, and there's ( Read more... )