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391 lines
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<title>The Homestuck Epilogues: Candy - Chapter 6</title>
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<div id='s6'></div>
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<div>
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<h1>Chapter 6</h1>
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<div class="o-story_text o_epilogue type-rg type-sm line-caption line-copy pad-x-0 pad-x-lg pad-b-lg">
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<p class="no-indent"><span class="opener type-hs-opener-rg type-hs-opener-sm">N</span>o one is
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answering the door to Jake’s mansion, so Jane lets herself in.
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There is almost no crime on Earth C, and so almost no one locks
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their door. In fact, most doors do not have locks, which has been
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terribly unfair to the struggling locksmith industry. Once, at
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John’s eighteenth birthday, Dave Strider engaged Jane in a
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shockingly aggressive debate about the economy in which he accused
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her of supporting “neoliberal corporate welfare” for pointing out
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this exact problem, which was... well, such a baffling incident
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that Jane is still thinking about it at absolutely random intervals
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five years later. She has an honorary business degree from almost
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every university on the planet. Dave hasn’t even finished middle
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school. What does he know about the effective and ethical rigors of
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corporate bailouts?</p>
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<p>Well, Jane thinks with a heavy sigh, now that she’s not running
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for president, it doesn’t really matter, does it?</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Jake?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane feels rather like a princess in an
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animated film with the way her voice echoes up three flights of
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circular staircase. The mansion is dark and cramped—tall, narrow
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halls, gothic arches, rooms stuffed in all corners with kitschy
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junk. Jake has a taste for velvet paintings and faux-antique
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candelabras, which mesh less than harmoniously with the backdrop of
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his paisley wallpaper. Blue light filters in from the stained-glass
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windows on the top floor of the foyer where depictions of cerulean
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sirens lounge against surprisingly tasteful, modernist
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backdrops.</p>
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<p>Jane calls his name again, lifting her skirt so that she can
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climb the stairs one step at a time. From the second floor, she
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hears a sudden and awful noise: boots scrabbling against wood,
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glass shattering, hard objects hitting the wall, and the
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unmistakable roar of a rifle firing. She sprints the rest of the
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staircase and runs down the hall, <em>clack, clack, clack</em> in
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her expensive—but understated—kitten heels.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Jake! Jake, where are you?!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">The big oak door at the end of the hallway
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swings open, spilling orange lamplight into the darkness. Jake
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steps out, looking ruffled but handsome in corduroy shorts and a
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dress shirt buttoned up to midsternum. There is a smudge of
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gunpowder on his cheek. His whole face lights up when he sees
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Jane.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Oh jane how unexpected!</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Are you alright?!</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: What? Of course! Why wouldnt i be?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I heard a horrible noise! What was all the
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racket?</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Oh this?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake grins and holds up his rifle, which is
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still smoking from the muzzle.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Just a little morning target practice!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">He kicks the door all the way open behind him
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to show what’s up. A circular sitting room festooned with Christmas
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lights and paper targets, all of which look as if they have been
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hit many times with bullets. There is a battle bot hanging out by
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the fireplace at the back, holding an armful of bottles and
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surrounded by a sea of broken glass.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: You do this... in... inside the house?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">He looks at her like she’s the stupid one.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Well of course jane where else would i do it?
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Bringing this operation outside would only startle the
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neighbors!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane’s mouth opens, and then hangs there for a
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moment as she decides whether or not this particular conversation
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on household propriety is worth having. Sometimes Jake simply
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cannot be blamed for the foolish things he does. After all, he
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literally grew up in the woods.</p>
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<p>Instead, she enters the room and takes a seat in one of the
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ostentatiously cushioned bergère chairs, careful to step around the
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puddles of cracked glass.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I must ask jane... it seems that you are
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rather frazzled. Are you sure you arent the one whos not
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alright?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane rests her temple in her palm. Jake grabs
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another of his ridiculous fake-Victorian chairs by the back and
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swivels it around so that he’s sitting across from her.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Have you talked to Dirk lately?</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Er not exactly. I would say that i have been
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talked *to* by dirk.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: But the communique has certainly not been two
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sided.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Ah, yes. It seems that we’re in the same boat
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then.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I haven’t heard from him. I stopped by his
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workshop, but it was locked. If he was in there, he wouldn’t come
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out.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Dirk was the one person on Earth C who took
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the state of the locksmith industry with the seriousness it
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deserved.</p>
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<p>Jake scoffs and flops a hand. Both actions are dismissive.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I dont see what all the ruckus is. Our good
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chum dirk fancies himself a dark and tortured soul. Cutting us off
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is not entirely out of his wheelhouse.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Yes, but not like this. It’s been years since
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he’s done a full blackout on us. Oh, I’m terribly worried.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: You worry far too much jane! Life has become
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so peaceable on this new planet of ours that i suppose dirk has
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merely tired of this idyllic life. It has either driven him
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permanently or temporarily insane.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Thats my theory at least. Maybe its tommyrot
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but i have faith that dirk will be back. After all where is he
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going to go?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: ...You seem rather cavalier about this.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Like, even more cavalier than you usually
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are.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake laughs, all uneven, and runs a hand
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through his attractively tousled hair.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I must admit i am rather half rats at the
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moment.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: You’re what?</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Haha sorry that was a pretty obtuse way of
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putting it wasnt it.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: What i mean to say is that ive been powdering
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my hair quite a bit today.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">He makes a motion like knocking back a bottle.
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Jane side-eyes the idling battle bot, flush with empty wine
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bottles, and then side-eyes Jake.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: First thing in the morning?</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Well i needed the bottles for my target
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practice jane i couldnt just pour the wine down the drain! Thatd be
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a waste!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane frowns and leans forward on her knees so
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that she can examine Jake more closely. She sees it now. The
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unspecifically precise movement that comes from overcorrecting
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drunken body language, the unfocus of the eyes... That was a very
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detailed thesis he had on Dirk’s potential psychology, almost like
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he’d been giving it a good think. She knew that Jake and Dirk were
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not officially “together,” and had not been for some time, but
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their lives were still inexorably entwined on basically every level
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for some reason she did not understand. One might even say
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codependently. No matter what he said, this had to be affecting him
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as well.</p>
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<p>Jane lets out a fluttering breath.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: You know what, Jake?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: You’re right. It really would be a waste!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">She pushes out of the chair and goes to
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retrieve one of the unopened wine bottles sitting over the
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fireplace. They’re all screw-top, because Jake isn’t that classy.
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In fact, he isn’t classy at all. His veneer of classiness is about
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as authentic as an off-brand Halloween mask. Jane has no idea why
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she can’t get him out of her system, even after all these
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years.</p>
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<p>She braces herself on the mantle and knocks her head back,
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taking a long, uninterrupted swig right from the bottle.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Jeepers jane! Slow down!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane keeps gulping. She drinks until she can’t
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stand it, then breaks off, shaking her head and letting out an
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ungraceful hiss. Golly, that is cheap merlot. Her vision is already
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swimming. Spilling a bit of wine on herself, she spins around to
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stare at the silent battle bot. It’s got its hand out, waiting for
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her to hand over the bottle.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Could you leave us alone, please?</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">The battle bot tips its head at her with a
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click-whirr and then looks at Jake, who—traitorously—offers exactly
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zero backup. Dejectedly, the bot shuffles its way out of the room,
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but not before dropping every single one of the bottles it was
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holding so that they make as much noise as possible when hitting
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the floor. It slams the door behind it. Ah yes, Jane thinks.
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Scorched-earth policy. That robot was indeed programmed by Dirk
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Strider.</p>
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<p>Jake is staring at Jane wide-eyed behind his spectacles.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Jane i must ask again... are you quite
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alright?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Actually no, I am quite not!</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I will say. You really seem like youve got
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the morbs!</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">She staggers back to her seat and takes
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another swig of disgusting wine.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: I canceled my presidential bid.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: What? I was under the impression that you
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were awfully chuffed about that!</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: I was so incredibly chuffed about it, Jake.
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But Dirk called me just before his disappearance and told me to
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“cancel everything.” And so...</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane puts her face in her hand miserably.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: ...I canceled everything.</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Why jane do you really need dirk to run for
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president?</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: I know that he had set himself up as your
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plenipotentiary but it seems to me that you have everything you
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need to win the day without him.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jane looks up at Jake from between her fingers
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and under her bangs.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: Well yes, I suppose that I could run a
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successful presidential campaign on my own merits, especially since
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Dirk and I developed most of our strategy together.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: But now that I’ve pulled out I can’t just go
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back and tell them I’ve changed my mind. That would be so
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embarrassing! It would make me look wishy-washy. I can see the
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headlines now, calling me a “terminal flip-flopper.”</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Also...</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Somehow it just doesn’t seem right without
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Dirk.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Jake pries the wine bottle from her hand
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gently. He takes a drink from it, less gently.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Dirk has that manner about him does he
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not?</p>
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<p class="jake">JAKE: A way about him that makes you feel like
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whatever you do as long as it does not involve him it doesnt count
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for dick.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">He sounds a little... bitter? Jane blinks at
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him.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jane">JANE: I hadn’t thought about it that way.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: But yes, ever since I talked to him I have
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felt... strange.</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">Her whole body is numb and floaty. Sure, she
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chugged the wine. But it’s strange to have gotten drunk so fast,
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isn’t it? Especially since she spends several nights a month
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drinking much harder and fancier drinks at investor dinners. Jake
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passes the bottle back and she takes another drink.</p>
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<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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<p class="jake">JAKE: Strange how?</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Strange like you just explained... like
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nothing I do matters. I should be more upset that I’ve spoiled my
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chance at running for president, but for some reason I find myself
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not really caring.</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: And that’s what I’m actually so upset about.
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The fact that I don’t care!</p>
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<p class="jane">JANE: Instead...</p>
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</div>
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<p class="no-indent">When did Jake scoot his chair closer? They’re
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sitting packed so tight now that his bare knees are brushing hers.
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The air between them is warm and wine-soaked. Jane takes another
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serious look at him, at his elegant jawline, his dark eyelashes,
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his handsome nose. It really is unfair that he’s so good-looking
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while also being so... so <em>Jake</em>. But this is nice, she
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thinks. When was the last time they talked? Really talked? It’s
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been such a long time that she’s almost surprised how good he’s
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being to her right now, considering that she walked in on him in
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Peak English Disaster Mode. Was it always this easy to talk to
|
||
him?</p>
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||
<p>Maybe because of the wine, and maybe just because she wants to,
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Jane reaches out and sets a hand on his thigh. She leans in closer
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||
until she can feel his breath on her face.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Oh, this is mortifying to admit, but I’ve
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||
been thinking that perhaps I’ve been doing the wrong thing with my
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life.</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Instead of all this business politicking I’ve
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||
been doing, what I’d really like...</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Is to settle down and raise a family.</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Does that sound ridiculous?</p>
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||
<p class="jake">JAKE: Why that doesnt sound ridiculous at all! Its
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||
just that ive never heard you express such sentiments before.</p>
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||
<p class="jake">JAKE: Except of course for that time when you were
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||
under mind control and had me trussed up in your lair as you
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pontificated villainously about using me as a breeding stud to
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||
create a blood lineage for your incumbent corporate space
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||
empire.</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Oh...</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: You still remember that.</p>
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||
<p class="jake">JAKE: Jane youre one of my most cherished friends.
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||
I couldnt possibly forget a single moment weve spent together no
|
||
matter how sexually uncomfortable the situation may have been.</p>
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||
</div>
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||
<p class="no-indent">Jane feels herself turn red. Why did she think
|
||
this would be so easy? Jake English was kind of a slut, true, but
|
||
also their relationship was an emotional minefield. She slides her
|
||
hand down to cup his knee, rolls her thumb into the dip of the
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||
joint there, and tries to remember the drunken advice on matters of
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||
seduction Jade gave her once when she was foolish enough to take a
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||
weekend off and go on one of her and Jake’s expeditions. She can’t
|
||
for the life of her remember the substance of any of her lessons
|
||
though.</p>
|
||
<p>Jake is still staring at her, drunk and enraptured. She ventures
|
||
deeper into his personal space.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Well, Jake, it doesn’t always have to be that
|
||
way.</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Putting business first? Ignoring the good
|
||
things in my life chasing profit? I’m sick of it.</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: I think that I could be... loving. I could be
|
||
a good wife.</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: For the kind of man who needs a good wife in
|
||
his life.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Like, say, an eligible bachelor with a
|
||
hundred empty rooms in his house and no one to help clean
|
||
them...</p>
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||
<p class="jane">JANE: Who has been recently and mysteriously
|
||
abandoned by his long term... “companion.” Or whatever he was.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Someone handsome and lonely and who knows me
|
||
well enough that we need not fear showing each other our less
|
||
savory sides.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Such as... being drunk at nine in the
|
||
morning.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Oh, Jake, isn’t that the dream?</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="no-indent">Jake slants close, casting a shadow over her
|
||
face. His eyes are so green, and they’re glittering with naked
|
||
adoration, for her. It’s all for her. He nudges a knuckle under her
|
||
chin and tips her face towards him.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="jake">JAKE: Jane...</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="no-indent">He’s so close that Jane thinks he might kiss
|
||
her. She shuts her eyes and lets his husky wine-breath wash over
|
||
her face.</p>
|
||
<p>Instead of kissing her, he says:</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="jake">JAKE: I say this sincerely as one of your oldest
|
||
and dearest friends.</p>
|
||
<p class="jake">JAKE: I hope that you have luck in finding a
|
||
charming and bricky bloke who will summarily impregnate you with as
|
||
much swiftness as possible and be a responsible father for your
|
||
children.</p>
|
||
<p class="jake">JAKE: There is nothing for you i want more.</p>
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: ...</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p class="no-indent">Jane’s mouth drops open. What was she
|
||
expecting?</p>
|
||
<p>But Jake doesn’t register her mortification or frustration
|
||
either. He just keeps smiling and gazing into her eyes, warm and
|
||
drunk.</p>
|
||
<div class="chat type-rg type-hs-small">
|
||
<p class="jane">JANE: Well, then.</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
<p>With a deep sigh, Jane shoves Jake off of her and stumbles back
|
||
to where his horrendous-tasting wine is stored. She pops open a
|
||
bottle of briny-smelling moscato and tips it back—this embarrassing
|
||
encounter isn’t going to forget itself.</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</body>
|
||
</html> |