[The scene is the brain of the
jeffsoesbe collective. CREATIVEYEFF is hanging out in the lounge doing the brain-task equivalent of flipping through magazines, clicking tv channels, and surfing the web.]TASKMASTER enters, a big stick in its hand.
TaskMaster: OK, CreativeYeff, here's the deal.
CreativeYeff: (idly) um hmm
TM: You will finish revising the two stories so they can be sent out.
CY: (dismissively) oh-kay
TM: Or it's no Battlestar Galactica.
CY: (irritated, like a 13-year-old) Fine. I'll do it.
TM: And no LOST.
CY: What?!?! WHAT?!?!
TM: You finish the revisions, or it's no LOST. You have until tomorrow night.
CY: That's no fair!
TM: (turns away) That's the way it is.
CY: You're ruining my life!
TM: (smiles) No. Just the opposite.
36 hours, and counting.
