Nothing was resolved in this morning's meeting so I came back down Broadway to my hotel. Hyacinth met me at my room with the following requested items:
(1) Five reams of 20lb. White.
(2) A new iPhone 3G.
(3) A Nathan's Famous Hot Dog from a street vendor.
(4) One whole grapefruit.
(5) A DVD documentary about Werewolves.
Upon arriving, Hyacinth said, "I had a dream last night that I took an Uzi to a Mommy & Me class and just fucking shot everyone." This, however gruesome it may sound, did not shock or surprise me. Hyacinth regularly has dreams where she either shoots someone, or gets shot. "What do you think my dream means?" she asked. "That you hate your womb?" I suggested. I gave Hyacinth her marching orders for the afternoon meeting at 20th Century Fox on Avenue of the Americas and then dismissed her.
There was one new message on the voice mail in my hotel room: It was the final 30 seconds of the song "Epic" by Faith No More.
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