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No Rest For The Wicked

The scene opens on a large, opulent estate. The quiet is unsettling. Dry leaves blow through open windows. A mouse, nibbling the crust of half-eaten bread on the table in the Hall of Feasts, retreats at the sound of the door bursting open.

[NICK enters the room, dressed head-to-toe in blaze orange]

NICK, to himself: Well I don’t know what I expected.

He drops his gear in the entryway and heads upstairs, checking for signs of life. Greg‘s study is empty. Even the gold-plated couch is covered in dust. It’s a bit a of surprise, given the state of the yard. Though the house is unkempt, the grounds are immaculately groomed and ready for this week’s guests. Lewis, the man who writes Celebrity Guest Host Andy Berg’s questions, has been hard at work keeping up his end of the bargain.

Nick makes his way to his suites. On his way, he passes the iron gate that marks the stairs to the tower of the Rap Emporium. Bits of a dry, bready mixture and the shattered remains of a fine china dinner plate litter the floor. It would seen Greg didn’t like the meal Nick sent up the Friday prior.

NICK, yelling to GREG, unseen but surely still atop the tower awaiting another Blackstar album: Look, man, Quorn was all they had! What do you want, linguine with artichokes? What am I, some kind of hospital cafeteria?!?

Nick finally reaches his rooms, unlocks the door, and heads to shower. He fucken needs it, body and mind. Three days in the woods and not a deer to be seen. It’s his only source of red meat for the year; hopefully next weekend will be more fruitful.

Clean, but tired, Nick turns to getting the place in order. He sets tables meant for the week’s guests: white linen, polished silver, porcelain beer steins. He’s not going to bother with plates this time; everyone just wants to drink anyway. Three placards are placed at each table to mark the party’s themes: Musicals, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and It’s (Allegedly) Deer Season.

The trivia fam at Company Brewing are coming tonight at 7:00. Tuesday, the cretins who call the Up & Under home will scurry in. Wednesday to steam clean after those mongrels, then Thanksgiving. No party for Jake’s Marauders aka the Glass Nickel Pizza crew aka We Complain About Needing A Last Name On A Question Where Nick Very Clearly Said First And Last Name Scooter Club. They’ll have to wait for next week.

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