Don't mind me, go ahead get comfortable. Scratch yourself. Take a seat. There's plenty.
NO DONT SIT ON THAT CHAIR YOU FAT LUG YOU'LL BREAK IT.
Just kidding just kidding.
Anyways, IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII (roll that shit around savor it) am Maurice.
I'm an Actor by trade.
There's a seedy bar somewhere. Its mid afternoon. There's a paino off to the side and one of the few lights in the room is right over it.
Im sitting on the piano stool, running my fingers over the keys.
Our handsome dashing protagonist smiles at his audience, (Thats YOU if you aren't following) and begins to lay and sing a familiar song.
My story is much too sad to be told,
But practically ev'rything leeeeeaaaaaaaaves me totally cold
The only exception I know is the caseeeeeee
When I'm out on a quiet spree
Fighting vainly the old ennui
(PSSSSST THAT MEANS BOREDOM. I know most of you are barely literate so I thought I'd make sure.)
And I suddenly turn and see
Your fabulous face.
You people, you fucking people are great you know that? You entertain the hell outta me. I look into this mess and what do I see? Macho guys compensating for bravery and a lack of masculinity by killing humans, crazy chicks who stab and burn and use MAGIC?
And don't get me started on the REAL crazies.
You people are great. Don't change. Seriously.
(more piano cords they are so moving. A bass comes in somewhere around here)
I get no kick from champagne.
Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at allllllll
So tell me why should it be true
That I get a kick out of yooooooooooou
YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
Thank you, thank you, you're a lovely audience. I'll be here all week.
Oh and if your lucky I'll tell you more about me next time.