Apocal-optimist!

open: In this scene you play the occupants of a small city, interior BC * you are despondent * you are ECSTATIC * you are tragicomic * there’s a lump in your throat * a LUMP in your pants * a lump in your breast * can you FEEL the part? Now remember, Death will be coming in, near the end of the scene, everything will go sort of yellow—
LOTS OF MOVEMENT HERE!!!

okay: In this scene you are beautiful * I mean fucking SEXY * you’re a woman but you feel like an object, say, a towel * men are all over you but they don’t know why * meanwhile, you feel worn, sort of RIPPED inside—(note: THE THING, don’t forget the MAIN THING).

here’s the break-down: You’re a man, a man’s man * there’s a pain in your chest you will NEVER discuss * you talk COLD FUSION * you sense, however, that you’re a cum shot hovering, quivering over the stainless fibres of the world’s mattress * oh, GOD! get that thing ERECT! This IS porn when you get right down to
DEATH LACKS METER, COMES INTO THE SCENE,
STOPS RECORDING, STOPS THE MOVIE.
Death as your understudy.
Death as the U.P.S. driver,
“You called for a pick-up?”
“NO.”
“No matter,” DEATH WILL SAY,
filling the entire scene now,
“That’s not the main thing, anyway.”

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