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In a burst of MINGUS, with a touch of BUSBY BERKELEY MOXIE The Return Of Rothkoid makes his ELEGANT ENTRY from the BEDROOM wherein he has been PREPARING himself for party mode, steeling self against SELF-PERCEIVED SOCIAL INADEQUACY and adjusting his TUXEDO from below which PEEPS one of the most LURID SHIRTS ever seen, largely concealed due to its POWERS to BLIND BYSTANDERS. (And obviously, MORE TIME has been spent reading LOTS of SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY literature and STAGE DIRECTIONS.)
Thanks all for coming. I hope everyone's having a good time. Finery in display is a good thing. The musical range (Zorn through Zelimsky, with side-alleys through industro-experimentalism, chi-chi happyjappop, the finest in Coldwater Suplex beardstroking, retro-glam and downbeat) is just warming up, and there's martinis being mixed. The big fan remains prowling my bedroom, dispensing cooled air and is not yet aimed in anger. Let the circulation commence.
Canape?
Ah, so you've noted the vomit-impervious carpet I've had installed? I had a feeling it would be needed.
Continue with the partying, all.
Oh, the real thing will be in about a week or so, I feel, if anyone's going to actually be in the area... |
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