"FWLS61" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)


"There are people out there!" he said, pointing to the happy
crowd, swarming over itself in an effort to... I'm not sure, but
whatever it was they really wanted to do it.

"Of course. It's called an audience. Okay, Franny, do Bite
the Demon Pancreas while Jack and I get set up."

"Check," she said, immediately launching into the horrific
mishmash of samples. The speakers launched to life, the crowd
wailing in appreciation.

"DO YOU HAVE YOUR DRUM PROGRAM?" I asked Jack over the
noise.

"OF COURSE," he said, turning on his old computer. "I'VE
GOT SOMETHING RESEMBLING WHAT WE DID LAST NIGHT PROGRAMMED. I
JUST TAP A KEY AND IT GOES."

"LUCKY. YOU GET THE EASY BIT. SHE'S ALMOST DONE. LET'S DO
LEGO BRICKS NEXT."

"WHATEVER," Jack said, keying up the sequence into his
simple shareware drum synthesizer. Franny's Pancreatic
exploration ended with the three random piano notes, sending the
crowd into hysteria.

"Are gonna die?" Jack asked, able to talk over the lack of
Franny's 'music'.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, tuning up, or doing what
I thought tuning up was.

"They look a little rowdy."

"Don't worry, they're okay guys. They probably just want to
eat our livers so they can possess the healthy vitality our band
possesses."

"WHAT?"

"Lego on three," I reminded him. "Three."

He started the catchy beat (pop all the way, baby) and
Franny quickly loaded her plastic-bonking and acid sizzle
effects. I strummed the notes in something resembling the
original order they came in. How'd the words go? Oh yeah...

o/~ Mom burned all my motherf**king lego bricks o/~