A/N: Totally unrelated to this fic in any way: I'm going to a midnight release party for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince tonight (it's just officially Friday the 15th in madriland as I type this note). I've been reading these books for six years, and I've never been to one! I'm kind of intimidated, but those eight-year-olds should be no match for me.
With regards to this chapter, I have never seen the film mentioned herein, and I kinda don't plan to, but it has a four-and-a-half star rating on Amazon. So.
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"Are we cancelled yet?" There was a twinkle in Uno's eye that his assistant rarely saw.
"No." She handed him the usual envelope. "But I don't think it's good."
He pulled out the memo, the twinkle disappearing, and read it. "They said it was incomprehensible, like watching a Salvador Dali painting in motion picture form."
"Actually, that was already done. It was called Un Chien Andalou. I truthfully don't think there were any real similarities between the two."
"Except, it would seem, their complete incomprehensibility."
"Well, aside from the fact that Un Chien Andalou was meant to be a work of artistic expression, not--"
"Crap?" Uno finished for her.
"That's not necessarily the phraseology I would have used, but yes."
"Well, let's see what they want this time, then." His eyes scanned down the page. "Apparently, they want to get 'back to basics.'" He kept reading. "Ah, that was predictable." He handed it back to his assistant.
"To the writers?"
"To the writers."