Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Words from the Home Front

It smells like dolmas here.

It all happened so suddenly, with such overwhelming activity, that I scarcely recall a day without the thumb of our lamb-trimming overlords held firmly upon our throats.  Our office was occupied in the scant time it took a strange cease-and-desist letter to turn into complete conquest of our humble blog and podcast.

Hmm? What's that?

MalKontent says it's only been a few hours.  I don't believe him.  I don't for a second.  The droop in his tails tells me more about our captivity than any words ever can.

I've been fighting to keep my spirits up.  I've been made to do all sorts of heinous acts since the violent change in leadership.  Check out this awesome baklava shaped like Serenity.  Square Enix announces they'll be adding fully-articulated yogurt to Final Fantasy XV, because it was easier to animate than women in real clothes.  28 Scenes in Star Wars that would have been improved with moussaka.  John Barrowman eating a gyro will blow your mind, and you won't believe what he does next.

I'm starting to become numb with terrible clickbait headlines, and the memory of what it was like to write upstanding pieces about geek culture seems ever farther, farther away.

It always smells like dolmas here.

I haven't seen Jarys in forever.  They seemed like the only chance we had of shaking off this yoke, of turning the tables on our clever corporate food truck oppressors.  I ducked into a hasty, clandestine meeting late after writing another "My Little Pony set to include Twilight Souvlaki in upcoming season" article and saw them in a poignant, fraternal sort of embrace with a certain gravity that made the loukaniko I'd been force-fed for lunch drop into the pit of my stomach.

I haven't seen Jarys since then.  I don't know what to think.

The rest of us move in a daze between assignments, never knowing what terrible headline or edict or lunch menu will be handed down next.  I don't know where my next meal is coming from...but I always seem to know its country of origin.  The office seems a stark shade of black and white, as though all the glorious colors of the Power Rangers figures on Mike's desk have faded from my vision.

I think I heard Mark and Thomas say they planned to sneak out and return with food.  Food without tzatziki or tahini.  I wish them fortune.

I'm far too scared to try it myself.

It always smells like dolmas here.

UPDATE: As you may have guessed, this was part of our April Fool's silliness yesterday. Go check out the rest of the story here:

Part One!
Part Two!
Part Three!
Part Four!
Part Five! (You Are Here)
Part Six!
Part Seven!
Part Eight!

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