& a special guest (and brief) appearance of Okaven Zenuth:

A general lie came forth,
buzzing through the air and landing on his shoulder.
He smacked it with the paper wand that was the rolled up daily newspaper.
The newspaper immediately crumbled in to finite pieces after thwarting against the insect.
The lie flew off. Now he wouldn't have any news to read, so
he ran after and chasing the lie he squinted and hurried upon it.
He stuck his tongue out and followed it closer. More quickly.
He advanced in a rush and jumped toward it but missed it, landing with the base of his head stifling drywall,
penetrating through. Bouncing back up and onto his feet he chased after it again.
This time succesful,
an adament smile and sound of a throatgulp glug swallow sound pronounces the eating of the lie.
A large newspaper comes falling, batted down and over his head, hitting him hard to a bolded point. He then disentegrates.
The rest of the resturaunt takes a notice, averting their attention again to the man and then quickly resuming back to their
own lives.
A theme-costume-goer was just sitting down upon a stool as the man had been beaten in the head with that gargantuan newspaper
and she, in vivid distraction of that, did not realise the plurality of dining cockroaches she was about to nest down on and crush. The lady was dressed
in a gallant-white wedding gown and wore the face of a greystroke bedford streetrat.
Throughout sometime in the night she would continue an inghorance of ever having sat upon festive cockroaches and also come in to a conversation with
the bartender. "What does happen, then, when you die?"
The 'tender, cleaning the inside of drink glasses with a rosemary cloth, eventually eloped to an answer about the rooms: The endless rooms and changing doors.
Corridors of the subconcious enveloping themselves outward, he explained. Conversations dryly elapsed the hours along as her drunkereness wettened. The subjects introduced
upon: who would fix the drywall, where the other attendees of the costume party are and why the hell they are so late, who would fix the drywall, and if the bartender
is actually paying any darn attention. She looks up and realises the bartender is at the otherside of the bar and she thinks about just how long that he has been
enabling her one-person conversation. [how-longs-she-been-babblin-to-'erself-for.Hours, it must've been.]
'Garrity, Gahriddy, gravity, rabbity--- that Hared Garrity could act for sure!' was the last speech slurp she allowed before toppling out of the barstool and onto
the floor.

Jeff remembered stepping over a marital rat before he exited the diner. Bubbles rose from out of her unconscious blackout zzzz's and it was still morning...
a kind of orange pastel outline of day piecing in to a square elongation through the window and across the floor. The rest of everything in the Diner was blackened save for the
gentle light that dim bulbs had at. Passing the basketball-sized hole in the drywall he stepped to the exit through the door with a beginners paranoia worry new to him,
with coldsweat hidden so inward that nobody else would guess at his building turmoil. Faces to hmmm play cards as people pass but the emotions inside---
he continued to the vehicle and continued these suspicions drawn out from a newspaper glance while the rat-gown woman had at a thick blackoutdream.

There her friends were in costume. The Rat Galients. They held paper cups and string between their fingers which rose up to helium balloons. 'Tessa, Tessa! You made it!'
They welcomed her but she knew that she was not notified of this change-up in their meeting place. Their long noses enthusiastically snicker in black wetness but the more she drew back
she quickly became aware of the gate seperating herself from her ratwedding friends.
A large picketsign impaled in the ground stood before her where the golden solide gate intersected between them.
'Eden's Gate.' the sign said in bold red letters over white.
'Tessa' one of them said from the other side of the gate. 'Tessa, you need to swipe to get through.. here, this way.'
He guided her from through the other side toward this mechination

A brazen computer with secure turnstyles brightly demanded proper procedures. Tessa stood there with raised eyebrows. Her friends tried to help yet again
'Hadn't you remembered?' Her snouty friend Valerie asked her, standing beside Jym and the others from the otherside.
Tessa reached for her pursue but realised it was not briar side.
The machine asked yet again in an emotionless process
Credit card, please.
Birth certficate, please. Hold arms out to either side after swiping.
Authorization function awaiting- author----
Her friends awaited on the otherside of the gate in their costume gathering but Tessa wouldn't be able to enter Eden without her proper cards. She realised she left her purse back
in the bar where she had blacked out.

'It was Dehnver, by the way.'
She blinked, lifting her head up.
'Dehnver, John Dehnver.'
She wiped her eyes. It was the bartender helping her up by her shoulders. 'That's the name of the actor you were referring to, right before gravity slipped you up.' Jensen, the heavyset Q-ball bartender with the
handlebar moustache and quirpy bowtie poured her a glass of water. She was upright and in the stool again, only quickly before leaning against her own arm for support.
'Here, have this' he pushed the water toward her. 'Its not everyday you get to have a walk-on role in an omniously nonfortified heap-perplexion' he winked
'well, maybe someday' she said back to him 'I'd just beg it to be a story more coherent than this.'