ref: ab0d37120321cc50a82ae3a3467904c55eadaaaa
dir: /troff/0205.ms/
.LP .ce .ps 16 .CW FUCK NO, SCHLUMPFE .R .ps 10 .br .ce .ps 10 .B 1 .P .PP .ps 10 .DC A lbert Lunsford unpacked his belongings and settled into his new room. .PP .ps 10 Cambridge had changed. .PP .ps 10 Scripture flickered on the bedsheets as Lunsford dribbled crumbs onto his bed. .ps 8 .CW Viagra, Cialis, NiagraX, .R .ps 10 and so forth. He shrugged. It was written: .ps 8 .CW On, no off switch. .R .PP .ps 10 Lunsford could never remember how this worked. .PP .ps 10 Still, how hard could it be. .PP .ps 10 He pulled out the magazines. .ce .B 2 .P .PP .ps 10 Julius Schlumpfe knocked quietly. .PP .ps 10 Then, louder. .PP .ps 10 No response. .PP .ps 10 Door opened, Schlumpfe tossed his bag onto his bed and drug his cases into the room. Just as his head hit the pillow he noticed Lunsford. .PP .ps 10 Well. .PP .ps 10 Schlumpfe sighed, running his hand across his face and through his hair, smearing the bright blue bodypaint. Whatever, he was too tired to care. .PP .ps 10 Lunsford smacked his magazine against the wall\(emwhere it stuck. A prayer card worked its way loose and tumbled to the floor, cursing audibly. .PP .ps 10 "God .I damn .R it," echoed Lunsford. .PP .ps 10 "I'm trying to jerk it," he added. .PP .ps 10 Schlumpfe pulled the covers over his head. Bodypaint streaking the sheets. .PP .ps 10 "Leave me alone," he said to his roommate, and promptly fell asleep. .ce .B 3 .P .PP .ps 10 "Haven't we pitched this one already." .PP .ps 10 "Fuck no, Schlumpfe." .PP .ps 10 "Well, it sounds familiar." .PP .ps 10 Lunsford was keen on his own idea. Induced \fIParis Syndrome\fR, via networks. Application of effective balms would then (potentially) finance untold adventures. He had only to convince Schlumpfe to share the byline. Lunsford was confident they'd sweep the grading curve. Typically, Schlumpfe was less certain. .PP .ps 10 There also dangled the question of applying the technique locally, on campus. Moving beyond the whitepaper into practical application. Repudiation of the predictably forthcoming low grade. Humiliation of the questioning professors. Frankly, Lunsford's enthusiasm was offputting. .PP .ps 10 "Let's keep it on the page," Schlumpfe suggested, none too hopefully. .PP .ps 10 "Like a modern day novelist," Lunsford assured him. .ce .B 4 .P .PP .ps 10 Lunsford had made a study of the blue bodypaint. For his own reasons. Properties were elastic, nothing made sense. .I Whatever, .R Lunsford figured, .I I'm not a chemist. .R .PP .ps 10 When asked, Schlumpfe seemed reticent to discuss his new religion. .PP .ps 10 "It's like the Holocaust," said Schlumpfe, "People hound us wherever we go." .PP .ps 10 "The grooming," offered Lunsford. .PP .ps 10 Schlumpfe punched him in the arm, hard, leaving a bright blue fist\-print on his 6XL t\-shirt. .bp