The Unknown: The Blue Line.
  W: You’re listening to, sorry, you’re reading the web page of the transcript of the conversation we had in the car on the way to the photo shoot, all transcribed diligently by Scott “Carpal Tunnel Syndrome” Rettberg.

S: Got that right.

D: That’s bullshit.

W: So where are we?

S: We’re at Hermitage and Augusta.

W: Hermitage and Augusta and we’re heading—what’s our first destination here?

S: We’re going to go get money at Manufacturers Bank. Dirk is owed money, part of which we’re going to break up into supplies for the Unknown photo shoot, because, ah, money owed is always flexible money.

D: I just hope you’re saving the reciepts.

S: Yes, I should be saving the reciepts.

D: We should save all the reciepts and put them in the hypertext, because that would serve the double purpose, convincing the IRS that they’re legit, if we ever made any money out of it.

S: Are we gonna be a non-profit, by the way?

D: Not by choice, but—

S: I mean, you can pay yourself as an officer of a non-profit press.

W: My most greatest fantasy for the Unknown is a not-for-loss company. It’s like the opposite of a not-for-profit.

S: But we do need to eat.

W: And we need insurance.

S: Yeah, we should get insured out of the whole deal.

W: But that’s about it, really.

S: And we need to pay for the trip.

W: Cause once you’ve covered rent, you can probably eat for $2 a day, just by going out in front of your house and getting fresh fruits and vegetables, the staple of a healthy diet.


S: I’m not sure you’d, ah, be able to stay regular, though, on nothing but corn and mangos.

W: Dammit, Scott, I’m talking about survival. Not staying regular.




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The Unknown at Spineless Books.

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