03 January 2012

dragon and the cast of portlandia listen to washed out at voodoo doughnut.

the brother of the lady, whom the dragon affectionately called "fur" in ironic reference to the boy's relative hairlessnes, accompanied the friends as far as the year 2012. previously they had been wandering in what can only be described as the fifth dimension, which everyone knows has space but no time, so it was quite a shock to all three when they found themselves in a precise time period. the twenty-first century seemed cluttered compared to the free-form of the fifth dimension, and fur, though remorseful, decided to bail.

"i just can't take all this junk," he said, referring to the speeding cars, populated paved roads, and steel structures ensconcing them. promising to meet up further down the road, the trio again decreased down to a duo, with the lady and the dragon continuing on their aimless journey.

"i know this place!" exclaimed the dragon with a joy he typically exhibited only while consuming a can of pumpkin. "i've seen it in digital form once before, but it is so much better-looking live."

"you're right," said the lady. "we're definitely somewhere in the pacific northwest, usa and i think i know where. if the olfactory improvements i've made since meeting you have any clout at all, we've got to get to voodoo doughnut before the line starts wrapping around the block!"

and off they dashed up a street know as burnside. although they were having difficulty being fully present in two-dimensional form, the pair ambled along and managed to arrive outside a magical domain of holey dough with very few falls at all. for once the actual world refrained from making their bones dissolve as it had in the past and both travelers were indeed surprised. the dragon's eyesight seemed more functional than the lady's which enabled him to quickly spot two familiar faces perched alongside the road. meanwhile his infallible ears were picking up the synthesized sound of washed out's dismissive anthem "call it off." he loved that one even though it reminded him of loss, and the perpetually occurring effects of nostalgia-induced nervous breakdowns.

"fred! carrie! over here!" the dragon waved a hairy paw as though he were flagging down an animated milkbone.

not one to be starstruck, the lady had already wandered inside and was binging on a baker's dozen of grape apes. she wondered aloud, "how the hell did i end up in portland? and how come the 90's are still so alive in this town?"

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