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| Alarmingly Strange Stories |
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| . For one man it was his office. For the other, it was just another place to vent. Books line the entire office wall. The man behind the desk was immaculately dressed. The other looked like a grunge fan. His clothes were beyond worn. "What the FUCK are they doing to me!" The young writer, in the natty clothing, paced the length of the office. "Calm down...it'll be okay...it's just..." The agent tried calming him down. "These are my words they are messing with!" "It's just a book," the agent tried to calm down his client. "This is my book," the writer exclaimed. "Of course, it is...and, it is a fantastic book." "It's just another bestseller?" The writer challenged his agent's brush off. "Baby, that's not what I meant, and you know it." "Sure it is...It's not that important...What do you want from me?" "Well" "Well what?" He waited for an answer, "WHAT?" "Its not like you've come out with any new books..." the agent hemmed. "Because, they keep changing my words...My words...MY WORDS! Can you understand that?" The hip writer took a moment to size up his agent, "No, you wouldn't understand that." "What's that supposed to mean?" "You just sit there and live off of my words...Living off the commission." "You think that's why I'm here? Is that all you think of me?" The agent leaned back in the chair and stared at his client disbelieving what he had just heard, "you really think that all I want is the goddamn ten percent?" "Why else are you here?" "I keep hoping that maybe...maybe, you'll get off your ass and write a sequel. I keep waiting." . |
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