Fedday, Baugust 20 - Vegetal’s house.
“In conclusion, I’m giving this… a six out of seven.” Vegetal concludes.. He hadn’t had any plans on reviewing films, or becoming this much of a critic, but with Guythefilmcreator’s new film, Silver Minute, he just had to. It was an amazing example of true cinema, and was only 5 minutes long! It showed how the script industry really was being driven to the ground, and how the only way to really save it was to push the camera industry more and more. It was a complex argument, and Vegetal was sure that most people wouldn’t get it. It just wasn’t something that normal film viewers could understand. You really needed to be in the cinema, in the mind of the actor, to even start to comprehend this argument. He was using a new website, Mailboxed, to write it. He’d just made an account. It was a pretty nice website, but he’d wish that it would stop spitting out obscure film references everytime he published a review. It became really annoying really fast.
Vegetal stopped typing and hit enter. There. The review was out for the world to see. Cinema. Sighing, Vegetal turned his head to look outside his foggy window. Outside, Lake Gat’s waves were crashing against the rocky shore. Now that would be an excellent place to start to film Silver Minute 2. Maybe he could get in contact with Guythefilmcreator. He looked at the lake for a while, then finally getting up, turning off his PC, and strolling to his kitchen.
Vegetal lived alone. He’d prefer it no other way. He couldn’t handle interacting with people. Not after what happened 8 years ago. He still couldn’t think about it without getting increasingly worrisome. But it was all in the past. The present was now. Cinema was now. He really needed to get into this industry. It would be for the better of all of cinema. Cinema now was terrible.
He opened his coffee cabinet. Being a compilation of sentient vegetables in a mech suit, he really didn’t have any real biological functions. That said, he could still feel, touch, and taste. He couldn’t smell though- he had no sensors for it. He took out the coffee powder. He really loved coffee, as he really couldn’t taste that well- his sensors for taste were pretty old. He’d probably need to upgrade them soon.
Pitch black coffee was his favorite. It was strong, so he could taste it well. It was also dark just like his sou-
There was a knock at the door.
Vegetal almost dropped the coffee power in shock. No one has knocked on his door in forever. Thinking back, nobody had ever knocked on this door-
Another knock. This time, two in a quick succession.
Vegetal was convinced he was dreaming. A nightmare, to be exact.
He slowly inched toward the door.
And opened it.
“Why hello there, my good fello-”
Vegetal slammed the door shut. How the hell did he get here? How did he know his address? Who told him?
“Umm, I didn’t mean to scare…”
Vegetal could recognize that accent anywhere. Even after only one time of hearing it. That one time, that one meeting, had scared him. More than he’d like to admit. It’d been over a year. Had he been looking for him for that long?
“Please, my good sir. I just need to talk.”
Vegetal opened the door, and looked at Birbladd.
“What the po are you doing here?”
“I’m here bringing urgent news. Well, it’s not news now, but sure will be. If you just give me a moment to sit down and have a discussion about it, I’m sure you’ll see why this is such a big deal.” Birbladd said.
“And why would I listen to you? You almost killed me!” said Vegetal indignantly.
“If you just sat down and let me explain, you’d know that you were truly never in any danger in the first place.”
“I guess.”
Vegetal lets Birbladd into the house.
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