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You have exactly 8 Billion dollars in cash in the form of two crisp,
fresh-from-the-bank-vault bills emblazoned with the image of what looks to
be none other than Scott Chen, looking rather dictatorial, on the front and
a very large tower on the
back.
When held up to a light, a watermark in the form of a spiraling
staircase is revealed, plunging through the mysterious tower. It is this
very watermark the friendly (and, more importantly, CUTE and possibly OF
AGE) cashier examines after you impulsively fork over the precious tender
“Okay, just another 550 million and we’ll be square,” she says with a smile, tucking the money away into the appropriate slot in her register. You show her your wallet with an awkward smile. “That’s all I got,” you sigh.She shrugs and reaches into the ‘give a penny take a penny’ bowl. “Don’t sweat it. I got you covered.” She hands you the extra large cup, even though you only asked for a medium, and winks. You return the wink and saunter over to the soda fountain with a newfound spring to your step, feeling a little...saucy. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T TAKE MAGIC: THE GATHERING cards as payment!? NO! NO NO! NOOOOOO! OH GOD. NO! I NEED MY MEATBALLS! I NEED MY SPICY MEATBALLS!”You nearly spill your half-filled cup (well, more like BARREL) of diet-pepsi (this Subway doesn’t serve Coke products) as the sound of Josh’s shrill, mind-shattering screams pierce the air of the peaceful sandwich joint like a razor edged katana slicing through silk curtains in the able hands of a samurai warrior or a harpoon piercing the eyeball of a big fat stupid whale. Only Josh is no samurai and this air sure as Hell aint silk (whatever that means). Also there's no whales. You turn abruptly, only to see him playing a game of tug a war with two employees over a foot-long meatball sub.
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7/7/2008 6:27:32 PM
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