+-=-=+==-==*--+=SITUATION one: A DANCE FLOOR DILEMMA

A generic E W B moves onto the dance floor. He is here in doof-spirit only, and wants to be another groovier place with much less F V S and much more E L V. But he’s here now. So he guesses (amongst all the S S P and I N F s) that someone just marginally less groovier than he will turn up and sweep him off his nikes. Someone like that Ms Good Girl. She’s a babe (BaBE bIG tImE). Even if she does hang round that try hard crowd…generic E W B often wonders y a BaBE would bother.

But he doesn’t really wonder too much. I mean, y on doof earth would he?

Instead he decides to sniff-snuff out a bit of rush. He’s seen Horri-Blee by the door when he came in and knows that he could score (heheheheh score off HB? Damn poop-tooting…but only if he lets him flash his scars first…condition of sale for him…ritual thing E W B thinks). This E W B doesn’t know if he’s up to scoping scar tissue in order to get high…tonite is not a fly-by-high nite; is a more mellow calling.

  Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…………….*scoping big*….

  There! Counsellor Causal is standing by the speaker lite, and where she is, Electrode can’t be far behind…yup over there near cLoUdroOm oNE (E W B thinks maybe he should just go in there and crash till the homie crowd gets active and he won’t feel so alone but nah - not now anyway). L8TR.
  E W B starts walking towards the Counsellor, careful to attract Electrode’s stare…he winks and Lectrode beams back his N S Q that is really fukkin annoying unless u want him to shine its e-drenched red eyed stare on u…
  They chat together for a nanosec then Lectrode moves towards the D S P.  The E W B slopes off towards roOm oNE (he’s discrete enuff not to follow Lectrode straight away) but gets bumrushed onto the floor by another E W B with obvious S S P.
  Generic E W B isn’t clued enuff to just play along and grindgroove till this mix is up - instead he thinks about some biff and turns to sock the homo one.  Homo E W B is horrified at his mistake and jing-jangles off to dance with his own fag hag, so generic E W B lets his biffo impulse stop and stomps his dancing way into the roOm.

SITUATION two: SAD FAG HAG MUSINGS_-=-=-*****+++-==

Whoo-hoo! She always makes an entrance - amid the B T T 30ish crowd she stand out bIG TiMe, they always think she’s either a leso or just a butchgrrl. Little do they no. They have null fashion sense (or so she thinks anyway - does Ms Good Girl - R F V’s the lot of em).

This time she swarms in among her minions - she spots a fawner E W B that always eyes her - and Head Injury pants at her side with his O S P practically hangin out, its so DaMn obvious, y can’t he just get over it? It’s just not iN at aLL…Horri-Blee struts his posing way nearby (his hair flicks are too much but hey, she lets him get away with it - his scarred flesh compensates). He hasta check out plastic surgery. She’s been telling him for a while now, but he just carries on with some philosophical b/s about dichotomies of attractiveness and scarring being the flipside of healing etc etc blah blah blah…as IF she hasn’t already guessed! Sheesh! I mean, she’s not stoopid, just carefully ignorant. It’s the trend, after all. And he’s prolly just poor anyway.

She needs a drink. Or two. Maybe three (now that she actually thinks about it, a black ‘bucca shot with 2 stoli chasers - one lime, one acid - sound kewl). Just to pass the time. Till Honey makes HiS entrance (should be good, and she needs to see him if nothin else - her A P F is acting up tonite). She hasn’t seen him in ages. The last time she made a complete pathetic try to get his gear off and lost ALoT of cred…and thinks tonite she’ll have to make up serious face value. Drinkies should make her b l rage.

Making her menandering way across the floor she sees Lectrode groping a gothbimbo type as she grabs frantically inside his shirt. Jeez. Lect is soooo unsubtle. Lucky CC isn’t round (Ms Good Girl knows coz she tried to email her tonite and just got dustbox). The ol’ Counsellor bedda watch her bee-hind or she’ll make it into E V S soon enuff. Maybe she should blow Lectrode’s cover. Call his bluff. Milk him for all he’s got. Then again, Ms G isn’t into blackmail…storage is soo much better than usage. Neva no when it’ll come in handy. And considering Lect is practically Honey Percent’s best buddypal she’ll file this away for future refs instead.
 
 
 
 
 

-+-----*--=SITUATION three: HONEY PERCENT==+-**

…arr the sounds of Honey Percent as he strides onto the floor…he’ll only dance to topqual doof, none of this E W B/ L T E/ R F V/ E V S "ooh I’ll dance to woteva they play coz i no they’ll play good mix i tOLd them to"…he won’t waste his time on it for a sec. Only topqual bassbeat, yeah?. Otherwise wot’s the point man?

He gets a rush, not speedfreak like but more like trance mile highish feelings…this is wot its like when the music hits your chest, yeah?…doof pumping into corners into bodies into cortexes…zat a word? Have to ask Horri-Blee, he’ll know for sure man.

Honey gave up chemicals years ago. Its not that he doesn’t approve, its just that he doesn’t need em anymore. He’s got his brain wired to give him all he wants. Even sex can’t do that for u. Not like this. Not when u reach that beat man. Give me E L V now!

No actually that last part is a lie. Sex CaN do that for u. If its rite. And when was the last time he had that chance? Too freakin long ago - with someone that mattered, yeah. Too rite man.

Doesn’t matter anyway..not when u can have doof, on tap, whizz-banging into muscles and shit, making hot n heavy power smoke injesting into organs breathing hard and groove moveing *hop step shuffle* *hands in air palms down one fist to the side* like hardbeat heaven, yeah? Yeah man. All u need man.

                              selection?