Cheap Gothic Soap Opera, Part 69

A few hip looking young people walked into the room as well. One of them said, "hey, duuude, dyo smell that?"
Another, who looked like a frat-boy stoner, said, "yeah dude... it smells like...a 104 proof methanolic beverage produced from a refined fruit juice substance of some sort, perhaps Vitis vinifera aged some 20 years in a premium double-burnt oak barrel."


"Duuuuude"

Desperate not to attract attention to his sinful region of shame, Toni carefully and quietly lied down amidst the people, careful not to attract attention. Then he quietly rolled along the ground just as one rolls down a grassy knoll. He knocked into a few feet, brushing his soft hair against their chubby toes...despite the sincere and gruff voice saying "it tickles" from somewhere above, Toni concluded that they probably didn't notice. He then reached the library and attempted to roll through the door, but that didn't work, so he awkwardly got up, hoping that the torturous silence behind him was directed at something else, and he walked into the library. Shutting the door hurriedly, he sat down on the couch.

On the table was a curious book. It was bound in something like leather, except that it was softer, and lighter, and if he didn't know better, he would have sworn that it was HUMAN SKIN. Anyways, he opened the book to a random page. It was written in some sort of red ink that smelled like the time he visited that village in Rwanda where everyone was asleep. This page was entitled, "BELLUM COSMICUM INTER PRODUCORES SCRIPTORESQUE." He shivered, since he had a good knowledge of Latin roots (SAT prep), and it clearly meant "Cosmic beauty meanwhile Producors and Writors. He didn't know what the hell a "writor" or "producor" was, but he kept reading on, determined to find out. He finally got to the end of the page after learning about the cosmic beauty pageant between writors and producors, and the amazing land of trash and hammocks that they fought to marry. Looking onto the facing page, he realized that there was an English translation the whole, time. He starting reading again:

"The Cosmic War Between Producors and Writors"
When time was young and the entities was cooling in Anxyszerchon, there arose two great cosmic powers: the PRODUCORS and the WRITORS. The former could generate mater and energy, but without form or substance. The later could take any substance and create form and shape and beauty. Although the two powers needed one another, the former was greedy, for it claimed, "Beholdeth, yea, yea WRITOR, we havest made thine matter, yea, and character, yea, given thou thine divine substrate, willn't thoust be more accepting to our demands for power?" And yet WRITOR replied, "Yea PRODUCOR, yea, dost not thou scum know that without thine WRITOR, yea, none such form might existeth, yea, yea, yea, such that thy might aquirest thine wealth?"

And so the two squabble, and squabble those two today, on earth, in the television business. But beware the PRODUCOR, for he is relentless to his ends. He has allies, such as the OYSTOR and the FERN and the LOBSTOR.


Toni was still confused, since it never really explained what a producor was or what it had to do with the television industry. He thought he knew what a writor was, but he was too nervous to say it aloud. He got up, realizing that the brandy stain was more or less evaporated. But he heard a rustling behind him. Turning around, he saw, sitting there on the ground, a small wet oyster and an uprooted fern. He then remembered the passage... "the oystor and the fern and the lobstor"... but then...that was an "oystEr" on the ground, not an "oystOr." And anyways, where was the lobstOr?

(OP: Ben, January 21 2008)