Greetings from the Omnigraphic Blogopticon. On view are vile sticky things dragged from the attic, snarky commentary on the world at large, and all-encompassing ennui. All that and a weird rubbery smell. A horrible time will be had by all.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Duty Now For the Future

All is not well in Sim City. Edward is desperately trying to find gainful employment, now that he's juggling two women. Maggie is talking a little too much about wedding dresses and babies and Cassandra is becoming more and more frightening. He's had to bribe two police officers and pay for damage at the No-Tell Motel this month already. Then there's also that new brothel run by Lady Pokingham that he hasn't even visited yet and her girls don't give it away for free.

He tries the laboratory route, since he still thinks of himself as a scientist of some ilk. This despite everything he knows being outdated by about 100 years and he was never very good at it when he was in his own century.

So he toddles off to the local recombinant DNA laboratory and tries to at least get his foot in the door. I'll blind them with science, he thinks, but he's stopped by a technician in a yellow jumpsuit and 3-D glasses before he can even get the door open.

"No jobs for you, pink boy!" is the answer, complete with a shove towards the street. Edward is confused and stands there looking blank. "Are you certain? You haven't even asked anyone inside."

"Nobody understands my potato," the tech adds unhelpfully.

"But I never even mentioned potatoes!" shrieks Edward, finally losing it. "Potatoes were the last bloody thing on my mind!"


The technician merely waves condescendingly. "I'm only a spudboy," he says.

"Blast and damnation!" grumbles Edward as he stomps off, glad he didn't get this effing job in the first place. It might cut into his snogging time and a guy could never have enough snogging time.

And he soon arrives on the doorstep of diner waitress Maggie, who is rapidly filling her tiny home with Brides magazine and fabric swatches. This momentarily panics Edward, but a nice grope clears his head and all is well. You know how it is when all the blood rushes out of your brain.

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