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[brbvideos.livejournal.com]

[Standing in the plane—definitely not walking, just standing still—is a man talking really loudly to no one. His breathing is wavering, he sounds like he's on the verge of losing control. He laughs suddenly, and then he stands straight; he takes several violent, gasping breaths and then he controls himself by force. When he speaks again, his whole demeanor is much calmer.]

My name is Patrick Bateman and I live on the eleventh floor of the American Garden Building. That's in New York. I used to run into Tom Cruise in the elevator.

[A beat.]

There was a FLOOR there. We have floors in New York, we have GROUND. We have—

[He completely loses control, and it's most evident on his face—his expression is one of rage, twisting his features, his face is turning red.]

FUCK. What the fuck is this, FUCK. Someone FUCKING explain this shit to me or Jesus Christ, I will fucking GUT someone, someone will—I have an appointment, I have to return some—I have to be somewhere in fifteen minutes—I will fucking GUT someone, I will cut your heart out, TRY ME.

Comments

[brbvideos.livejournal.com]

Absolutely.

[stronguponme.livejournal.com]

Good.

Welcome to the Astral Plane. Think about going home, and you're home. To your floor, and to where you would run into Mr. Cruise in the elevator. Simple.

[brbvideos.livejournal.com]

It certainly sounds simple enough, you explain it very well. [sarcasm is practically dripping, here]

[stronguponme.livejournal.com]

[Totally ignored too] Then you shouldn't have a problem getting back. Which means we can start trying to forget that amazing hissy fit you just threw.

[brbvideos.livejournal.com]

The sooner, the better.

[stronguponme.livejournal.com]

Couldn't agree more. Hey, why don't you try right now. If you need a little help, start by tapping your heels together while saying "There's no place like New York".

[brbvideos.livejournal.com]

[Raises a placating hand] Now, don't rush me. I'm starting to get a little interested in this place.