With the all too obvious exception to the
fifth and sixth STAR WARS, Air City, from a celestial distance ethereally
resembles a probed brain needled with plastic wires. From a closer periphery it
is dried Bavarian pasta sans the sauce and when one enters AIR CITY it is a
bustling Metropolis where Millions of heroes and daydream reside on furlough
from TIME itself-furlough and flirt. Smoking cigarette and having sex both seem
to be probable activates. SideArms remains inscrutable and elusive-hours
monopolized over blueprints and tactics. For summer Wolvie prefers sleeping with
what he calls Transients and what everyone labels Ambassadors. Maxima gets
hordes of Victoria Secret catalogue imported from what she grew up calling
TRI-NIPSUS Sol-Juggernaut absolutely deplores and for some reason cannot
understand why people in other galaxies have different names for planet earth.
Digital Justice lies in his quadrants toking and blinking his lashes, watching
a sort of astronomical NATIONAL Geographic-claiming that at the end of the
universe in a burgundy waterfall resembling a bellowing high school thespian
production. This curtain has a forehead written in ancient hieroglyphics and it
was once heavily assumed that a purple shaded puppeteer lives behind. The
curtain just falls and falls the direction of south and –it is rumored-if one ever
located this crisp curtain-will open up and find the beginning part of the
destroyed universe and be so awed that everything makes so much sense that one
begins to understand the totality of nothing at all. One time Juggernaut and
Iron Horse (before ambassador North arrived on Air City form an undisclosed
locale) spied on Jasmine who was almost totally nude taking a bubble
bath-through the slits of the air rafters. Digital has commented that Jasmine’s
origins stem from what he calls Neuter Angels on-the neuter angels, back in the
day, after the exile from what many believe to e the curtain Call stage
curtain-sprinkled stardust all over the fucking cosmos-banging into huge
gaseous masses and just making a fucking mess out of everything even though it
decorated the skyline. Jasmine has no fucking clue who she is or where she came
from. Paul admits to his nearest and dearest that he used to beat his meat
until raw thinking about Jasmine until Codie strutted on the picture. He’s
thinking about popping the question mark and kneecap stoop question one of
these days. Side arms smoking, crunching down hard, biting into the butt of the
cigar so that the rolled nicotine dips into his acid gums and slightly tingles
in a good way
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