dominicuswriting

[dominicuswriting]

ARE YOU THERE GOD? IT’S ME, MARGARET.

THIS CONVERSATION LOG COMES BETWEEN:   COMMANDER THESE ROSES ARE THE PLEASURES OF THE FLESH  [REFERRED TO AS: ROSES]  AND  LIEUTENANT AT THE HOUR OF DEATH  [REFERRED TO AS: HOUR].

HOUR: THERE WAS AN COMPLICATION WITH GETTING THE PACKAGE TO THE LOCATION. ROSES: WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? HOUR: […]  IT ENDED UP ON THE NINTH. BRIEFLY. ROSES: BRIEFLY— WHAT THE FUCK DOES BRIEFLY MEAN, LIEUTENANT? HOUR: ABOUT A DAY, LESS THAN A CYCLE. AND IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE ANYONE OPENED THE PACKAGE. ROSES: OH WELL IF NO ONE LOOKED AT IT— [A LONG SIGH] ROSES: GENUINE QUESTION. ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID? HOUR: […] NO, COMMANDER. ROSES: THE PACKAGE AND ITS MESSAGE SAT ON THE FUCKING NINTH FOR NEARLY TWENTY HOURS! YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHO DID OR DID NOT OPEN THE DAMN PACKAGE. HOLY SHIT, WE ARE FUCKED. HOUR: WE’RE NOT FUCKED— ROSES: YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW. YOU HAVE POSSIBLY JUST FUCKED UP A SIXTY FUCKING YEAR PLAN. YOU DO NOT GET TO STAND ABOUT AND SAY WE’RE NOT FUCKED WHEN WE ARE SO INCREDIBLY FUCKED. ROSES: FUCK ME. WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT BELLS? THEY’RE ALREADY ON ROUTE TO THE FIRST. IF THE NINTH CAV OR ZOMBIE KNOW THEN ALL OF THIS MEANS NOTHING. HOUR: WE DON’T KNOW THAT ANY MEMBERS OF THE NINTH KNOW— ROSES: SHIT IT IN YOUR HANDS AND CLAP, LIEUTENANT. I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER WORD FROM YOU UNLESS IT’S GROVELLING. ROSES: FUCKING SHITBALLS. WE’RE GOING TO HAVE TO SPEED UP THE TIMELINE NOW OR ELSE THOSE MOTHERFUCKING WIZARDS ARE GOING TO RUIN OUR PLAN.