The office parrot knew how to say “You’re under arrest,” which was a good way to judge which tour managers had been up for 7 days through three time zones, turning their septum into a wicker modesty curtain.
He also knew how to say Phlegm, Sasquatch and Moist and had been repeating those words for the last twenty minutes.
One of the loaders, who presented as a male as long as Corbin Wagner had known him, called in pregnant.
Corbin pleasantly gave him 9 months off, while twirling the pen with which he was going to write his resignation letter.
He thought it would be classier to hand write the thing, and also less likely to go viral than if he emailed Alder and Aspen O’Shaunessberg, who owned the Glitter and Glitz Performance Odeon, known to all who worked there over the past six months as the Litter and Glitch.
Corbin, the general manager, had come with the building when the O’Shaunessbergs bought the Lancashire Music Theater with the millions they made off of scratch and sniff NFTs, which weren’t really a thing until they convinced their pop star pal Kaleidoscope Hyman to release a song trumpeting the necessity of a digital collectible that may or may not smell like turmeric and lime if you leaned close enough to your monitor.
Alder and Aspen, or as Corbin called them behind their waxed and spray tanned backs, “Bitch, Trees” had taken to booking acts they found in the deepest crevices of YouTube.
Tonight was a scintillating Australian Male Revue called Balls Pyramid, which wouldn’t have been too objectionable, except the men were all descendants of workers who attempted to decontaminate the Bikini Atoll after nuclear testing. All the dancers had three testicles and their nipples were pierced with miniature bombs.
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