I had a post for today, somewhere. But I can't remember where. You see, I'm keeping my wallet handy right now, in case someone asks a question I can't answer. Like "What's your name?" That's the kind of day it is. So here is a little fiction. See you tomorrow.
"Arthur. You sure it's the right room? It looks kind of small, you know?"
"It's not that small, Yes, it's the right room. Says so on the door."
"Actually it says 203, not 'this is the right room.'"
"Just shut the door, okay? There's room for at least 18 people. Count the chairs."
"Elevators always say 'max 20' but I'd like to see you get 20 people in one."
"Whatever, okay? Jesus! We don't have much time."
"Well I don't see nothing, other than some old dirty chair-desks that nobody can fit in, and weird old cream paint on the wall. Kind of reminds me of a butcher room in some old B-movie horror flick. Are you sure it's the right room? I still think it's kind of small."
"Shut up, Ronny. Okay? Okay. Right there, on the wall by the door. There some symbol thing."
"Hey! That's Mandy's sign. Strange, eh? So where did Mandy say the stuff was?"
"She didn't say. She just said it was in here somewhere. And so far I don't see anything. There's nothing on the tables. No cupboards on the wall either. Maybe it's behind the whiteboard. Let me see."
"Whiteboard? When was that thing last white? And who's 'Christopher Dewdney?'"
"Who? What? What are you talking about?"
"'Christopher Dewdney.' See, on the blackboard. It says 'Chistopher Dewdney, Acquainted with the Night.' Who's he?"
"He's probably a professor, and there's nothing behind the whiteboard."
"Acquainted with the Night, eh? Maybe he's, like, a vampire or something."
"I don't think he's a vampire."
"Huh. If he was, I bet it'd say "Child of the Night.' Maybe he just likes vampires."
"Ronny, enough with the vampires. Okay? Now...There!"
"Above the door, those vents covered by paper. Let me get a chair and take a look."
"Professor, eh? Oh! Wait! That's awesome!"
"It's like the paper is just stuck on by air pressure. That's funny."
"Gimme a sec. I want to sit in the professor chair. Okay, okay. Now let's think."
"Nothing in the first vent. Let me look in the other one."
"What's the word? What do you call it, when you give something, like, a short name?"
"Yeah, abruption, right. Anyways, maybe his students call him, like, Dewd, you know?"
"I don't think so."
"That's awesome! I'd be in class and he'd come in, and I'd be like 'Hey Professor Dude! How's it going, dude? We'd have some beers after class, and I'd say 'Dude, man, you're a real dude!"
"Shut up, Ronny. The vents are empty. The stuff's not here. We've got to go."
"Why? The stuff's not here. Somebody got here before us. That's why!"
"Then how come it's right here under the table?"
"Right here, by the Dewd's knee. See! Prime B.C. Bud! Tonight, I'm gonna roll me the fattest cannon in the spliffdom."
"Oh, thank God nobody took it."
"And all this time, next to Professor Dude's knee."
"Ronny, seriously. I don't think they call him Dude."
"You never know, you know?"
"Whatever. Let's go before security comes by."