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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/19 23:05 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol has crossed the tiles, and she now grabs Boligard's left ear and twists. She pulls him across the tiles toward the cherrywood]

We've more important tasks at hand, Boli. Let the boys be boys.
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/20 00:18 By: tqr Status: Admin  
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[Rorschalk paces as the milk crate brands slowly decompress from the skin of his honeycombed ass, all the while keeping an eye on the board, stealthily munching on the quesadilla Guevara gave him...]

God I love horses!

[He strides to the board and delicately pinions his gallant knight on G6 to F4.]

A pox 'pon your milk crates!

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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/20 02:48 By: Jesus Status: Admin  
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[Jesus watches Boligard as the poor man is dragged over to the cherrywood]

Egads.

[He returns his gaze to the chess board. He sighs, and then he shoves the glowing-tipped Java between his gnashing teeth. He puffs]

I love parades, Rorschalk. Doesn't make me a better stratigizer, let me tell you.

[He reaches out and shoves his Queen to B5]

And that's when all hell broke loose.
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/20 20:03 By: tqr Status: Admin  
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[Rorschalk sees the lines of convergence upon his poorly housed monarch and sez...]

Hellfire! Well...let loose the dogs of war for shore ... but I feel that love is in the air, so not just yet.


[He leans over the board and moves pawn A7 - A6]

Hello Dolly.

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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/23 13:25 By: tqr Status: Admin  
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[The Rorschalk paces the floor, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, for three days he ripostes and aways in a seemingly endless cycle ... then he stops and sez]

Jesus!

Rising from the dead was less of a chore for you than saving this fair maiden ...

[squaring up to his erstwhile savior, the Rorschalk clenches a fist and punches it into the air across the demilitarized zone over the board]

Awake! Arise! Transform, I say!

What is used from your lust shall be mine...

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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/24 22:59 By: tqr Status: Admin  
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[Rorschalk holds the incantating arms pose balanced on one leg like the mad floutist of old Ian Anderson, he's been holding it 24 hrs, and then collapses on the floor]

Agua, lungs! My fwend. Dontcha go way 'neasy. Cuppa tea!

[so saying, he loses consciousness as the bell tolls three]
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/25 23:21 By: Jesus Status: Admin  
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[Jesus leans forward and grabs up his Queen]

Rorschalk, pray forgive. My mind was at the beach for a couple of days. Trying to calm myself, rid my thoughts of this frantic malaise they've settled into. All is nearly lost.

[He places his Queen on the A4 square. He leans back and shakes his head]

Should have stayed at the beach.
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/26 04:10 By: tqr Status: Admin  
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[Rorschalk starts awake as if jerking himself out of a nightmare...]

Jesus!

[recollecting his consciousness and realizing his place in the world, he wipes the slobber from his mouth and returns to the board]

No harm, no foul. A friendly game of chest.

[Twiddling his thumbs only briefly, he reaches over and pushes pawn G5 - G4]

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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/27 23:09 By: Jesus Status: Admin  
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[Jesus scratches his nose, twists his lips. We can tell by the glaze of his eyes that he's jonesing for a Java. The ghost of Bukowski stumbles over and spills a ghost beer on Jesus's lap. Jesus looks down at his lap. Carol and Boligard are arguing beside the cherrywood, and DePlancher is sitting at her desk doing DePlancher things. Jesus reaches into his sleeve and pulls out the Bose remote. He thumbs in Primus's soundtrack to Willy Wonka. He tosses the remote toward the cherrywood, and he locks gazes with Charles]

Did you know they put a plaque over a urinal you pissed in at Coles diner in Los Angeles?

[Bukowski's ghost gulps what's left of the pint, and then the poet throws the glass against the tiles, shattering, writing. Jesus looks at the spinning, shuffling shards, and he sees truth. He gazes at the glistening epiphany on the colored glass tiles. Bukowski looks at the chess board. He lights a beedi]

Of course.

[Jesus leans forward and shoves his F1 Rook to E1. Jesus leans back on his hands, stretching his legs to either side of the board, pointing his kind of really gross toes like he's doing yoga. His legs quiver with the stretch]

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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/27 23:20 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey grabs the remote out of the air, and he thumbs in Blackalicious's I Like the Way You Talk. he continues his discourse]

doesn't matter how well the VC crafts, girlfriend, the capital must pop, and it must rock and roll, savvy. I know you savvy. I mean, we're like kin. you're my sister from another mister, so...

[doomey tosses the Bose remote into the air above him and then he reaches for the current capital spread out on the cherrywood's desktop]
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/27 23:29 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol catches the remote, and she thumbs in Motherfucker by Faith No More. She grabs Boligard's wrists]

So, we want more than quality craftsmanship? Just so we're on the same page, cousin. Our job is more than screening ability and exactitude?

[She lets go of Boligard's wrists and she tosses the remote mirrorballward]
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/27 23:47 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey, standing real close to Carol, looks her in the eyes, and then he settles back on his heels and crosses his arms, raising his eyebrows]

seriously. exactitude? only New Yorker fuckwads demand perfection. only Paris Review demands ability and flawless flow. Charlie, listen. We are TQR. we demand goodstuff. that's deeper than perfect prose and educated sentence structure. fuck sentence struture.
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/28 00:05 By: carol Status: Admin  
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[Carol slaps her ass into the pilot's chair]

Fine, christ. Whatever, man. Hearing you like a Zeke show, okay? Loud and fucking clear.

[Carol extends her arm and swipes the current capital off the cherrywood's desktop, the pages tumble to the glass tiles. She grabs the topmost capital off the teetering pile situated upstage right. She spreads it out on the desktop and examines the first couple paragraphs]

Moved on, cousin.
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/28 00:26 By: doomey Status: Admin  
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[doomey taps out a pall mall and thumbnails a swan vesta. he sucks the flame from the tip of the match into the tip of the cigarette. he puffs, gets the cigarette going good. he tosses the flaming vesta to the tiles. the floored capital takes the brunt of the remaining spark stuck to the tip of the swan vesta, and the discarded pages go up in flames. and so steve hosking's capital has been Portholed. Bam. doomey's heels get hot, and he shuffles back toward the chess board, and he reaches mirrorballward and catches the Bose remote as it falls. He thumbs in NWA's express yourself, and he shuffles his shoes, nodding his head, all sideways and backwards and shit]
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Re:wk 3.0
Date: 2018/05/28 00:37 By: tqr Status: Admin  
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[Rorschalk sighs and stays the course]

Aye, the pawns have it.

[pushes pawn H5-H4]
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