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paste!
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larklo: i have no idea why this is happening.
preston: you have no clothes either.
larklo: i have no idea why the mastery of correlation has escaped me.
huanga: observe the way they walk, for a moment, if you will. see how that one drops his head. look, she has a swagger.
mr. balsa wood brownie: who are you people?
larklo: i have no idea why you'd ask that question.
tallyhoocoo brown: yeah, i'm outta here. fuck this publicity.
(tallyhoocoo brown walks off in disgust)
preston: when was the last time you took a train?
mr. balsa wood brownie: are you asking me?
larklo: i have no idea why we are all so confused.
mr. balsa wood brownie: if you're asking me, i haven't taken a train since the 80's. it was during winter and the cab i was in had a broken heater, so i put on a sweater.
ray deviant: i don't belong here.
(ray deviant gives everyone the finger and leaves)
preston: was the sweater a sentimental one? that seems like a specific detail.
charlotte chaos (rummaging through a bag): freed morality fire, now freed.
mr. balsa wood brownie: it was gray and i received it from...i got it on my birthday.
larklo: i have no idea where i am right now.
package of bacon: i'm suffocating.
random announcement from nowhere in particular: you are where you wish you were.
larklo: i have no idea if that helps or not.
huanga: observe the way they sit when they talk to each other. she is leaning away but very upright, legs crossed, a faint smile. he has his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, nodding his head alot.
preston: who was she?
larklo: i have no idea what to means to extend outward with open arms.
mr. balsa wood brownie: what are you talking about?
preston: the girl that gave you the sweater.
mr. balsa wood brownie: i never...she was an old girlfriend.
(charlotte chaos runs off)
eichorn: well fuck me sideways with a barbecue tong, this ain't new mexico.
rose riverdaleglen: hehe
(rose takes eichorn's arm and slips off into the ether)
oak-tree and laser-fetish man: holy fuck!
preston: do you think it's possible to use the past to your advantage?
huanga: observe the way the passerbys make eye contact. the introverts are always looking around but not holding a gaze. the extroverts don't make eye contact.
larklo: i have no idea why that seems unusual.
scrappy the lead-foot: *hiccup*
oak-tree and laser-fetish man: father?
mr. balsa wood brownie: never. the past is nothing but pain.
kiley coal: i am a girl with a subsonic harmonica (plays a glorious tune)
larklo: i have no idea how i got to be so predictable with the way i speak.
preston: larklo! get it together man!
scrappy the lead-foot: *hiccup* get away from me boy... *blurglhee*
pasta salesman: everyone, please, may i have your attention. is anyone here fully aware of the benefits of a high complex-carbohydrate diet?
larklo: i have no idea, none.
suspended chameleon holding anthology: i eat flies when they buzz, bugs when they dance.
haprica: it's all about the chase, isn't it? finding stuff to chase.
incoming thuderstorm: i like hugs.
wanda alcove: goodbye, see you all tomorrow.
(a sofa falls from the sky. a park bench falls from the ceiling. the characters look around and notice how far and how close they feel and overlap and sneak away and become curious and despairing, hopeful and obsolete with each other, but those emotives cannot be expressed in words. absolute darkness. a burst of light. darkness. light. for a thousand years.)
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