"I can explain
"Shut it
"Dance like that again and I'll
Dancing like that the church lady's words of sanity fell from her and she showed holding tongue.
On the monitor was a wild display of that's some dance the nazi-person, male top, female bottom was wrastling a bar crowd.
The man put a gigantic be quiet finger up to stay hushed.
"But that's the supposed antique dealer Sir." He changed his hand signal to a hold that thought.
Waiting on
Here it is
Then there will be sound
"Like a mechanical bull
"Trance my arse, huh
A woman with mama's kind of eyes poked her leg out from behind the warm up stage curtain. Assume your positions.
So we did. While people in black hood were brought through the training-laboratory, we were "free" to at least think our own thoughts. I was always making mental notes on news not news and interesting tidbits for my own collection of someday writing.
"Is the labyrinth secure?" A voice asked over the system.
"I don't think our facilities
"The labyrinth may or may not be a secure enough facility
"Quiet please."
Looks like the Jim Morrison crowd to me.
First wrangle, bar fight, or
This is the fifth on this
Dimension.
A sculptor measured the heads.
"Space suits?"
"Naw mohn, fencing, bettra dan cricket."
"Who invited the Alley Cats?"
"GUESTS
"THAT IS CORRECT for now, we are the guests." She whapped the audition script across my chest. Somewhere around page nine or so, a postal person butt-walked across a tarmac. "Did the person have legs?"
"Hey Babes, time to up the antee," dressed in a fireman's gear the person shook a metal gardening pail of coins at us.
"Fresh out
"Gave at the office
What do they think, this is the movies or something?
Technically it is very much not so, so please, behave.
Like a what?! Pah-lease like you have to tell me. You.
Thanks.
"Whaddayah think 'em meant by
"Butt walked?"
"Jusht tryin' to vizh-u-awl-ize
"Be nice to clear the airport before we work. Can you make that happen?"
"Moi? Not a chance."
That old thing stunk. The man stood up from leaning on a desk.
"Hope we're not interrupting Gentlemen."
"Darling, what brings you
"Us
"Us who?"
"These other visitors with me wanted to meet the master behind the bark at the moon script or whatever this is," she handed him the stack of papers. "Feels," he hand-weighed it, "more like a manuscript."
She put her glasses on and looked at a list of questions and issues. "Looks like we can't use that word, nor mummy." She kind of jammed down on the word mummy like shifting gears. "Who said anything about a mummy?"
"I'm assuming that's what stunk on this cargo list."
He grabbed her elbow and turned her in a 180°. "It's not called a cargo list," they both eye'd me to stay. "We'll get the movie people set up across the hallway."
"We'll get this fleshed out," he beckoned with a finger to the desk.
I was reluctant.
"Not sure I can be editorial if'n I don't know the real truth."
"If'n?"
"Is this place, this room, technically east or west of the hypothetical place in these cribnotes?"
"I can't figure you."
"Cowboy style editing or, you know
"No. I don't know. Do you know where I've been?
"Do you know we are at war Sir?"
He sunk his tired head to his chest, chin skin press and stretch. Glands still sore. Yes, I am aware that some of the hot wars as your people call them,
I have no people
Are about to bleed out a sort of, he lifted his head, "That's why. You're more of an academic!"
"These days, yeah," I put my briefcase on the desk.
"We'll make a pendulum of our brain."
"Sir?"
"Not into Poe?"
"I've read a lot of a lot of authors Sir, but
"Don't catch the references quickly?"
"Like me?!"
"I've been called intense because I'm a concentrator."
"Me too. I'll call for dinner and some encyclopedia."
"Only Brittanica is what the censorship lady said."
"Good. Then you'll help me with my manuscript?"
"It's not one yet. I'm not writing anything for anyone. And, you may need more than one, uh, editing."
"Excellent."
It's like a dance with disciplines working with grown up professionals, so Academia needed to accomodate. As other professions had developed licensing, Academia needed to, at that time, leave enough space for, like, Humanities specialists. Degrees and Doctorates couldn't be put on hold, so people had to keep pace with fluid. And, unlike the military, taking on rank and file isn't a chain of command.
"So. Butt walking. What was that about?"
He grounded his memories. Had a touchstone, some sort of trinket he'd take out of pocket instead of smoking. Napped on the desk. Would wake up and pick up where he left off.
"The Uboat. May be a poem instead of a song."
"The butt walk was across a hotter than hell tarmac under an, under a, under skies shimmering with
"The heat of battle?
"More like a pack of skunks following a camel."
"I interrupted.
"It's ongoing our wars. Going back to Biblical times."
"Shimmering with?"
"Chemicals that day."
Planes had made it past last lines of defense. But precious cargo, the most
The most precious cargo
Prevented crash landing. Those got tumbled up with something else. Something that couldn't land.
"And the oozing black from the eye sockets?"
It was "an Egyptian thing".
"Thing?"
They'd fallen asleep. That way.
"So, like, some people got sick of tourists and duct taped them into the seats of planes and
"Sick of the drugs."
"Okay?"
"Okay. Next editor."
I gathered my things and left the room, walked about ten feet, and passed out. In the arms of the next editor, surrounded by a team of experts. The writer was trying to get out one of the other doors in the room. We all went back inside.
The lead on the team put what I'd gathered up into my briefcase back on the desk. All OF IT. I WANT THE WHOLE STORY.
Is it important?
You tell me. Us.
My exit interview left a blank space where we couldn't fill in, cross out, and otherwise mar a perfect "document" -- would've been "internship". But it was quite the learning ecperience.
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