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Deadline dementia
W.: So, yeah. I'm gonna need you to trim four thousand words from your article there.
B.: I'm sorry, what?
W.: Four thousand words. Zip. Snip.
B.: But it's a five thousand word article.
W.: Right.
B.: You gave me a five thousand word assignment.
W.: Yeah, so. I'm gonna need you to cut four thousand words from that assignment, then.
B.: I can't do that. It's a historical piece. You can't tell the story of the Asian empire in a thousand words!
W.: Right. Well. You're going to have to summarize, then, aren't you.
B.: You can't summarize an entire historical era!
W.: Do that, then.
B.:
W.:
B.: Do what?
W.: Summarize.
B.: No! I just told you I can't do that.
W.: Right. So what's the problem?
B.:
W.:
B.: Are you doing this on purpose?
W.: I'm sorry. I don't catch your drift.
B.: I don't have a drift. I'm asking if you are acting like a moron on purpose.
W.: I should fire you for that.
B.: You can't summarize a thousand generations!
W.: What are you talking about?
B.: I refuse to cut four thousand words from my five thousand word article. Print it. Now.
W.: Who said anything about cutting? You're running on the lifestyles page. Headline story.
B.:
W.:
B.: What?
W.: You're on lifestyles. Front page.
B.:
W.:
B.:
W.:
B.: Are you still taking that depression medicine?
W.: Yes. And I'm not depressed anymore.
B.: Yeah, but you're flying higher than God.
W.: I don't know what you mean.
B.: You're high.
W.: I'm not.
B.:
W.:
B.:
W.: So, yeah. I'm gonna need you to cut four thousand words from your article by noon today.
B.:
W.:
B.:
W.: (coughs)
B.: You're stoned.
W.: I might be, yes.
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