(Untitled)

[rockabye_hamlet]

Helloooo. Are you all dead of boring in there? What happened to the creative plots and brilliant language?

Sheesh, kids these days.

Comments

[tanstagi]

In comes the new guy, canonically well-aware that he is from a high-camp (or possibly low-camp; they never settled on that) novel. He also may or may not have become stoned out of his gourd since he last left a sociable area, so a sarcastic ghost doesn't faze him. Well, not the ghost part.

"Man, don't go laying your trip on everyone else. You gotta talk to the author--or authors, yeah, that's it--about the creative plots!

... Do authors listen to characters around here? Now that's a trip!"

[rockabye_hamlet]

The typists are all cute girls, buddy. I'm trying not to antagonise them.

[tanstagi]

"All? I've never been in a novel with more than two! Even read one of them. She got me all wrong. 'Everything is fire' my ass!

Now, wait. Everything is fire. Like that couch. And that other one.

Maybe everything should be fire. Burn us all as witches! Heretics! Bad plot points!"

[allartisuseless]

Typist: NO TWO COUCHES ARE NOT ON FIRE! Or Peeps. No two Peeps are not on fire and I think Polonius should be added to the list now. No two Polonii are not on fire?

PS, omgilu

[norweenish]

...I think I'm supposed to be offended.

[rockabye_hamlet]

If you feel like it. No skin off my nose.

[norweenish]

Do you even have skin?

[rockabye_hamlet]

Well, that's an interesting question.

[thanitohercules]

*poses* Call you for some brilliance, sir? Some touch of wit, or daring tales, or some one or two dozen lines repeated from mouths of men of yore?

[rockabye_hamlet]

Take it away, my man.

[derothling]

Typist: ...*LOVES.* I MISSED YOU, PRINCE.

[avenginggoddess]

...well fine, then.

[rockabye_hamlet]

Yes?

[avenginggoddess]

....what?

[rockabye_hamlet]

What's up?