miss maggie (
bossymarmalade) wrote2003-08-19 09:36 am
could chocolate just let me talk a minute?
So I was watching my Season 2 Futurama DVDs last night, and in the commentary for the Valentine's Day one where Fry's head gets sewn to Amy's body? Fry and Bender (that's Billy West and John DiMaggio) beatbox the opening and closing themes. The only way I could love this show more is if it served me blended whiskey and arranged monkey ballet for my amusement.
But until that happens, I will be reading and re-reading The Story of Bread. Have I mentioned before that I love this site? I have? Well, I'm mentioning it again.
And on this final note of

But until that happens, I will be reading and re-reading The Story of Bread. Have I mentioned before that I love this site? I have? Well, I'm mentioning it again.
And on this final note of


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And, Futurama is the coolest. I am so sad that it was cancelled. Stupid people, not knowing stupid quality when they stupid see it!
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http://www.theshaaazaycafe.com/reviews/vibe.html
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...okay, I'm sorry I even thought that. *g*
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I had almost forgotten that word! And yes, yes he does. Justin in Arkham frightens me no end, dear lord.
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ooooh, now there's a crossover just *begging* to be written.
And that also reminds me, did I show the picture I took of superhero!slightlyBatverse!Justin I took at the concert?
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Turn left, walk down three cells, reach the next crossroads, turn right, go down the stairs, turn right again, and you walk past the three cells of people you always seem to be sending back here. Poison Ivy glares at you behind her pruning shears. The Mad Hatter carefully darns a ribbon on a simple top hat, and determinedly ignores you.
The final cell in this row holds someone that no one expected to be here. He was known around the world, his face plastered on billboards, posterboards, tv screens, building the image over and over and over until, finally, he became the image.
When the image faded, he fought back. And instead of being a former popstar occasionally seen on VH1 and in Gotham clubs, he became The Image.
And thirty people died for it.
He caught him, of course, as he always does. The lone crusader against the rising tide of evil in the world, but this one...
The walls were papered with old teen magazine pinups of himself. He was staring at them, his fingers tracing over his lips, his eyebrows, his chin, but then paused as the shadow of the bat crawled over him.
He whirled around, his face in a snarl, the scars illuminated by the cheap fluorescent lighting. "You..." Justin Timberlake, formerly The Image, snarled at the man who ruined him forever.
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*runs around in frenzy*
Also, I want to play!
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He didn't say anything and Timberlake didn't either, for a few loud heartbeats, nothing but his harsh rasping breathing and the delicate snip snip snip of Ivy's shears. Finally, Timberlake moved and the Batman saw something of the grace he'd built his fame on, fluid muscle movements.
"You came back. For what?" Timberlake asked, his voice more composed now and almost seductive. His fingertips still riffled the thin paper edges on the wall, glossy pictures of eyes and hair and tight glimpses of skin. "For what?"
"One more chance," the Batman told him. "You can still get transferred out of Arkham. You can still make amends."
One moment of sanity passed through Timberlake's eyes, one moment one brief little shadow flicker and the Bat has learned to catch these things, tiny split second reactions, but The Image is back too soon and Timberlake smiled, broadly and brightly.
"Transfer?" He said it loudly, too loudly and the constant shuffle of movement paused, and the Batman shifted irritatedly under the sudden stillness of everybody listening. The Image closed his eyes and spread his arms, slowly, tilting his head back. His throat was long and pale as he said, "Why would I want to fucking do that?"
The Batman watched as The Image began to laugh, louder and louder and the other inmates too, The Scarecrow's musty dry chuckle and The Mad Hatter's jittering giggle, and above it all the Joker, chanting and chanting i drive myself crazy thinking of you THINKING OF YOU THINKING OF YOU--
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Now keep writing it. I can't do more than what I did.
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*showers you with tender kisses*
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I'll treat my little thing as a separate drabbly thing and then you can totally go crazy and do what you like without having to worry about what I wrote.
Dude, this will so kick. I can't wait to see what you do with it.
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*tacklesmooch*
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At least they made Chris good lookin'.
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