This isn’t a pillow, man. This is a freaking anvil. You got this from the forge room, didn’t you? What do you think I am, some kind of machine?
Yeah, I know – I should expect this sort of thing, living in an abandoned hammer mill. Remnants from the forge room, repurposed for bedding materials. Such are the times we live in. Big Green, like many indie bands, lives pretty close to the margin, my friends. We don’t have the resources for all of those extras bands like The Decemberists and Black Flag can afford. God, no… we just make do with what we’ve got. In these hard times, our fans expect this much at least: that we should be every bit as miserable as they are. And friends, we don’t disappoint.
That said, I do wish Marvin (my personal robot assistant) would use a little sense in straightening up my living space. Admittedly, his mind has been elsewhere. I think our new marketing advisor, Noname – a minion from our corporate label Loathsome Prick Records – has been reprogramming him when no one’s 
looking. Beyond her ken? I don’t think so. Marvin’s not that complicated. He’s running a 486 processor, for chrissake. If he went to Harvard for seven years, he might end up with as much brains as your $10 wristwatch. Even an art history major like Noname can reprogram his ass, no problem.
Right, so… first she got Marvin all ironic. Now she’s working on getting us to do, well, more interesting things. Stuff that will make the news, you know? Like, I don’t know – setting the mill on fire, or drinking to excess and lying in a ditch in the middle of town, or hijacking a weather balloon and dropping tins of condemned sardines on the Washington monument, or…. well, you get the idea. You can see the headlines now: Big Green Makes Last Ditch Effort For Big Time. Or perhaps BAND BETS FARM ON MAJOR MELTDOWN. Or perhaps not. Sometimes I wonder if Noname is really that well checked out on this stuff.
Hey, we just do what we’re told, right? When was that ever the case?
