<$BlogRSDURL$>

Truth. Justice. Minesweeper.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

I was reading some of the earlier entries of this journal today (I had no idea that the Psycho Fairy Bitch actually posted an entry of her own! I wonder how she managed it) and noticed that I hardly ever mention Cruickshank. It's weird, because I see the guy every day.

But still, I really don't have much to say about him (usually). We've got our relationship down pat. A typical exchange:

(Open on GREYGHOST's subterranean office. DENNIS, a strikingly handsome and capable young man, is seated at a desk at center. Enter CRUICKSHANK, a shaven-headed weaselly lawyer, from left.)

CRUICKSHANK
Morning.

DENNIS
Hey.

(CRUICKSHANK crosses to the desk and picks up the mail. He flips through it.)

CRUICKSHANK
Anything?

DENNIS
He wants Itzhak to have an advance for some kind of supersonic cheese straightener.

CRUICKSHANK
Got it.

DENNIS
There was a thing with some street guys last night. A guy's windshield got busted, over on that stretch of Third with all the stores.

CRUICKSHANK
Yeah. Don't forget he's got that gallery deal tonight.

DENNIS
I know. The town car's in the shop. I'll take him in the limo. Oh, the pet shop hasn't been paid.

CRUICKSHANK
Yes they have. They're just being dicks. Incident forms?

DENNIS
In the bin. Expenses?

CRUICKSHANK
Yeah. And all your James Street crap.

DENNIS
Right, thanks. You've got Tamar at ten and the Parkway's backed up.

CRUICKSHANK
Okay, I'm gone. Seeya.

DENNIS
Seeya.

(Exit CRUICKSHANK, left.)
Comments: Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?