(Untitled)

[boldstarring]

[so! on this fine morning in camp fuck you die, a boy - fourteen, tops - sits outside one of the old barns, leaning against the side of it. he appears to be entranced as he peruses through an iPod.]

Britney Spears, what have you done . . .

[slowin' down!]

Comments

[smoothcriminal]

Who is Britney Spears?

[boldstarring]

You don't know who Britney Spears is? ... I'm not sure if that's a bad thing now or not. She's a singer, for certain definitions of "singer."

[smoothcriminal]

There isn't really anything like that in my world.

[boldstarring]

... oh yeah. Crazy interdimensional zombie camp.

[smoothcriminal]

[nods]

[boldstarring]

Wait, you don't have singers?

[smoothcriminal]

Maybe in the capital, but . . .

[boldstarring]

... that's so depressing.

[smoothcriminal]

Our world isn't very nice right now.

[boldstarring]

It doesn't sound like it is.

[smoothcriminal]

You like music?

[boldstarring]

I love music.