CONGO was a room dedicated to the blockbuster classic. "Hooray
for Hollywood!" I said, curious to see what denizens of the cinema
would be lurking here. I was ready for top-grade film criticism. When I
entered the room I was alone, so I decided to wait.
Biggerknee: Hello?
.......................
Biggerknee: Hey, I loved Congo, what about all the rest of you?
.......................
Biggerknee: Ummm. Hello?
.......................
Biggerknee: Did you love Congo?
.......................
Biggerknee: I did.
Ferrisbeu: Congo sucked, why would you make a room for it?
Biggerknee: I didn't make the room. Why did you come?
Ferrisbeu: To see who would like that piece of trash.
Biggerknee: What happened was that there were like 8 people in here.
But then I started talking about my sores and they all left.
Biggerknee: Because my lower abdomen and legs are covered with open
sores from an allergic reaction.
Ferrisbeu: Nice. Well, I thought it was a waste of mylar and emulsion.
Biggerknee: They hurt like hell. I can't wear pants because they
get crusty with pus.
Ferrisbeu: I'm leaving now.
Biggerknee: No wait, don't go.
And he did leave.
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