A/N: Oh... and I thought I'd address a remark from Insomnia's Phone Number: okay, you caught me. Yes, they did ban the script format. I was actually reading over the guidelines more carefully after I'd posted the first few chapters to make sure I was within them with regards to language and such (a little late, I know; STONE ME--I'm so ashamed, and my stupidity really does know no bounds), and I saw that... well, I'm clearly not. I've been debating what to do about it ever since and have yet to come to a good solution (I never was very good at problem solving). I'd actually fully forgotten within the last couple of days, because I do have the memory of a goldfish (I do, I do), but... here we are. I was hoping since every other chapter is regular prose, and the "stage" notes and such at times tend to contain rambling notes usually in complete sentences, the ff.n gods would abstain from smiting for at least the time being. Maybe I'll add in some ritualistic sacrifices, too...?

Anywho, if worst should come to worst and this does get taken down, well, I'm working on getting it coded for my website (link, as always, in the profile), so it'll still be up there. I hope that doesn't happen though. I just didn't want to completely change the format part way through (I think this is the part where I invoke artistic vision, or something equally silly like that, but to be honest it's OCPD more than anything else). All though it feels somehow more illegal now that I've admitted this...

-----

"I don't know what's gotten into them," said Uno, scratching his head. "The licensing fees alone on that one nearly killed us."

"We got quite a ratings boost, though," his assistant said, pointing to that part of the memo. "Riding off recent success of a franchise will do that, don't you think?"

"But that means nothing if they want us to change the format again!" He pulled at his hair. "I don't understand them anymore! I should have listened to my mom and become a clown!"

"Don't say that, I have a morbid fear of clowns." She took a step away.

"Whatever. Anyway, I don't--I mean. What are they asking for next? I can't even read that." He held up the memo for her to see.

She peered at it. "I'm sorry; I don't have my glasses on, sir."

"Since when have you worn glasses?"

"Since... never."

"Oh, what does it even matter! It's not my responsibility to understand what those crack fiends want, anyway. It's not like I have any say in the matter."

"Bitterness doesn't suit you."

"Get that to the writers!" He didn't wait for her to leave before he lit a cigar, inhaling the thick smoke into his lungs deeply before exhaling with a heavy, frustrated sigh.