there were technical problems, fuckin' big technical problems. in the back of the cab, flying at high speed, the weezle began to prod me. it stunned me out of me lovely, deranged moment, i was the count of monte cristo, spoon in hand desperately digging from tokyo to liverpool. once we had checked in we decided to investigate the local culture, dead fish, ankle socks, expensive imports. this man, him said "we don't have what you need, look somewhere else." the pair of us, eyes like saucers, heads like teacups found solace in the bassline from 96 tears, it was pumping out of the door of a car occupied by the smallest beautiful woman on earth. she uttered something to me, i ignored her, i was dazzled by her beauty. she shouted at the weezle, in japanese she said "you loooking in the wrong place, what you need is not here. leads and things. get your shit together, man." as the early stages of extreme hunger began to set in i was reminded of the dead fish. and something ghastly we'd seen in a window in kuala lumpur.
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