two beetles in my room. one with wings and one without. dull gold in color. the wingless one clips to the bottom of the winged one and they fly around the room. when caught, they separate, rolling onto their backs to play dead.
i walk into a small Hollywood office. i plop down a Gridlink CD and say "I have my next project!". i then break out a 16 page screenplay/treatment based on Gridlink's lyrics; an ultra heady sci-fi film. it resembles a computer virus attack more than a film. The agent thinks it sucks.
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