The Unknown: The Red Line.
  At 2 AM the phone rang. A sleepy Marla answered.

Dirk, why don’t you just finish your dissertation and stop worrying about it. What is it you have to do? Write a poem?”

“Marla, this is Brian.”

“Brian. Sorry. It’s great to hear from you. I think I left my belt over at your house.”

“Marla, what the fuck are these ads for Nike doing all over the hypertext?”

“What, nobody told you? Good news: we’re running ads for Nike on The Unknown. To try to pay off the debts leftover from the book tour. It won’t quite cover the expenses, but—”

“Fuck that.”

“We’re making an offer to Pepsi.”

“Marla, I won’t stand for that. Go get a fucking dot com domain name. I deleted the hypertext.”

“Oh, Brian. Do you want me to come over?”


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