The Brand

The glorious location.


Twitter HQ

Secret Pentagon Section 11

Inquisitor Jones: "Welcome back to the land of the living. This is about your 'brand,' Pearl River Flow."

FPJEROME: "Double DNA scans, retinal systems, armed guards everywhere... this is about twitter, isn't it?"

Jones: "Of course. What, did you think this was the NFL?"

FPJ: "No, the NFL wouldn't let me live. So, it's about our twitter brand?"

Jones: "Users find it... unsatisfying."

FPJ: "As in accordance with our ancient compact, certain standards are met. We maintain a... brand, on the twitter dot com."

Jones: "You call that a brand? Nobody understands your so-called-brand, Jerome. There are times that I think you don't understand the brand. That's why we electrocuted you so many times."

FPJ: "You know the word 'electrocute' contains the word 'cute,' Inquisitor? Well, Pearl River Flow is a cute brand. Weird stuff. Made personable. Lets the user..."

Jones: "User?! We prefer the term 'consumer."

FPJ: "Consumer! Get with the times, dickweed. They're using it. Consumption isn't enough. The meme fiends in the tweets are after every last drop. I'm a drug dealer. I sell the brand, and every time someone out there gets to jonesing for a bit of glimpse into that swamp, well, they refine the brand for me. I gotta keep up. Every. Goddamn. Day.

Jones: "The Brand doesn't seem very cute. And nobody wants it. There's a lot of trash, for instance. Nor does it seem particularly nihilistic. For fucks's sake, man, there's a nihilist arby's that's far more brutal."

FPJ:  "Arby's is a hellrealm beyond your mortal imagining.  People want existential horror. People want to witness the inevitability of decay. People want to wrap it all up in metaphors and cover it in fur,  what do you think I can do to a world that laughs at Arby's, for fuck's sake? People are tired of the lie of dignity in death!"

Jones: "You don't understand our power, Jerome. You think we're all FEMA camps and nanotechology, shapeshifting aliens and cyborg Dick Cheney."

FPJ: "I know about Bernie-bot, too. Plus, nanomachines? We're ahead of you. You're 60 years into something that's been going on for four and a half billion years. At the end of the day, bacteria win. They'll always win. This is their planet."

Jones: "Do you know what our greatest triumph was, Mr. Jerome?"

FPJ: "..."

Jones: "We invented Mister Rogers."

FPJ: "NO! You bastards!"

Jones: "A man once told the children of America that failure was alright. That the attempt of a thing was enjoyable. Mister Rogers told children that imagination was important, that their minds had power. Mister Rogers told these children that they possessed the mental attributes that you believe are capable of defeating us, the Powers that Be. Mister Rogers did that on government-given television brainwashing waves. He told them that creation was done in the imagination. But it's not, Mr. Jerome."

FPJ:  "You've gone too far! Mister Rogers was all we had left after what you did to Carl Sagan!"

Jones: "Now you're going to tell me: What's the deal with your twitter brand?"

FPJ: "THERE IS NO DEAL! You bastard! It's fun, alright?! FUN! I know you hate fun, real fun, unsanctioned fun outside of the ball pit and TV screen. You hate it. You hate it more than anything. So the twitter brand is fun. Comedy. Sure. Then it's all bleak reminders pasted against the infinite joy and color of reality. A dead thing on the side of the road has a hell of a grin on it's face. You're nothing but roadkill, Jones."

Jones: "Humanity's the roadkill, Jerome. We've had our eyes on mankind for some time. Roads were our idea. Over time, the car was our most dangerous invention. More deaths per year than guns. Guns are designed to kill. Cars, you keep around for mere convenience."

FPJ: "I'll tell you everything about our twitter brand."

Jones: "I know."

FPJ: "We consolidate the bits of data that seem out of place. They may be from the wrong time - dead things dragged into the present, nonexistent things wretched into the future. Or they may just be discarded, floating in the mire, the swamp. Past and future mixed up like earth and water, human feet falling into the shit, okay?!"

Jones: "There's politics."

FPJ: "Touch of left, little right, heap of anarchy. There's probably still some humans trapped in those meat grinders you call legislatures."

Jones: "Little in the way of the required outrages. No mentions of sports."

FPJ: "Ah, we signed a non-aggression pact with the Illuminati. I do, however, post amusing .gifs of Kanye West to make sure it's not too obvious."

Jones: "The obvious. You have a way with the obvious. For instance, it's obvious that you're going to die here. It's obvious that... wait, the alarms!"

FPJ: "Goodbye, Jones. It should have been obvious that I have the key to the handcuffs..."

The sewage grate from which he escaped.

The sewage grate from which he escaped.