Today's segment of the story is based on an illustration by Dave Pauls, an illustrator whose site slices and dices quaint and gothic and then sprinkles them onto a plate of absurdity.
I'd also like to thank Leanne over at beyond robson for the fast fictions' mention.
Props right back at you, Leanne.
But for now swivel back in your chair and enjoy...
VIRAL KILLER, QU'EST-CE QUE C'EST ?
Dempsey Mcdougal confronts his soaped up face in the bathroom mirror. A bar of Irish Spring floats in the half-full/half-empty, non-committal sink.
"Well, what do you really have to say to the people of this world ? I mean you can't even keep track of your own crap that's scattered around the house. How do you expect people to care what you have to say when you are in fact a slob. Does your immediate environment not reflect a disorganized mind that couldn't possibly construct anything of intelligent interest ?" he speaks in a deep voice behind the white, soapy beard.
He lowers his face to wash off the white and emerges himself: "There's more fun in mess and more intelligence in mayhem than is dreamt of in your philosophy. And just off the record, since when have you been reporting for Forbes magazine Dad ?"
He soaps up his face: "Oh you know just trying to bring in some extra bucks on the side."
He splashes himself clean-shaven once again.
"Hello, I'm Barbara Mcdougal, reporting for Interview. I was wondering when you were coming home for a visit."
"Well I think with the art world in such a state of flux... I mean DJ Shadow asked why hip hop sucked in 1996 but I think we can ask ourselves why art sucks in 2005. You know, I've got a lot of work to do."
"Hello, Jenny Mcdougal, reporting for Juxtapoz magazine. Will you be working in one main medium or do you think there will be an eclectic mixing of everything in your work this year ? And if you are working in mixed mediums, would you say that art is going against the current trend in popular music to just rock out in rebellion to the mixed monstrosities of electronic music ? Oh and could you get me and my underage friends some coolers at the liquor store ?"
"Maybe yes, maybe no, yes and no."
Dempsey leaves the bathroom to put on some clothes, interviewing himself from the point of view of all sorts of relatives all along the way.
As he's about to step out the front door he sees a small circuit board that obviously belongs to his roommate, Cam Poppington.
"Poor guy, he probably needs that," Demsey says to himself, remembering that Cam had been talking over dinner about some hugely significant plans for the day.
As he zips up his jacket, he closes away the world of questioning relatives and resolves to be of some use and help out his roommate.