DFO Radio: Do Your Job

One of the things I really enjoyed about Max Brooks' novel World War Z was that it took a fictional premise (zombies), set up the ground rules (slow moving unintelligent zombies, virus transmitted by direct contact, killed by headshot) and then tried to extrapolate how society would be affected in

Request Line: Do Your Job

INT. RECORDING STUDIO - DAY We join our regularly scheduled program in progress... PRODUCER: ...but I think it's great that the team kept you on the payroll. JIM MCNALLY: Yeah, well, those ticket stubs aren't going to sort themselves. PRODUCER: No, I suppose that's true.  Unless everything were done electronically, you know, using barcodes

DFO Radio: Ain’t No Party Like A Boat Party Because A Boat Party Floats On

INT. CYBERSPACE - DAY. A sleazy producer opens up a private slack channel. RIKKI-TIKKI-DEADLY: Hey man, thanks for taking over Request Line this week. BRETT FAVRE'S COLONOSCOPY: No problem, it's my pleasure. RTD: So, about publication.  I'll handle DFO Radio, of course, unless you insanely want to do that part yourself too. BFC: Yeah, I'm not

DFO Radio: Milestones

So I'm back here in Los Angeles after spending the weekend in Austin, and even though the temperature is about the same, the reduction in humidity is making it infinitely more bearable.  Austin is nice, but I don't know how anybody can suffer though that Texas heat for an entire

Request Line: Milestones

INT. RECORDING STUDIO - DAY A human and a sizable slab of electronic equipment sit comfortably outside an empty recording booth. PRODUCER: So I don't know if you knew, but today is something of a special day. DJ3000: ZERO-EIGHT-ZERO-THREE-TWO-ZERO-ONE-EIGHT...[rapidly performs a series of mathematical calculations]...THE SUM OF THE DIGITS IN THE MONTH AND

The Dak Prescott Summer of Maturity: Chapter 3

EXT. OSTENTATIOUS SUBURBAN MANSION - DAY NARRATOR [voiceover]: ...about that time, Ray and Aqib had just finished a game of mailbox baseball. RAY: ...it's really not a good idea for you to be waving your piece around like that. AQIB: [tucks a handgun back into his waistband] Yeah, well who ever heard of using

Request Line: The Future

    Hey.   Hey.   Stinger.   ...   Hey.   HEY!   ...what?   Stinger?   ...am I...?   Yeah, cool, I thought that was you.   ...where?   You're in orbit, man. You remember how you got there?   I remember being on fire. I'm not on fire now. Why am I not on fire?   Ain't no oxygen in space, buddy!   How...   You got flipped out of the gravity well by Bronco. You remember now?   I...yes. I'm