Back in her office, A Serious Monster was poring over the research she had done on The Narrator while singing Kanye West’s “Monster.”
“Everybody know I’m A Serious Monster,” she rapped under her breath, and then smiled at how terribly clever her new lyrics were. She had been scouring the internet and making phone calls all day, and her eyes, neck, ears, wrists, and right shoulder were all dully throbbing. She reached into her desk and pulled out a bottle of Jameson. “Oh, hello, old friend,” she said, lovingly. “Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?” The bottle, unsurprisingly, said nothing.
“What’s that, Jameson? You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!”
The bottle remained steadfast in its resolution not to respond.
“Well, then,” A Serious Monster continued, “We’ll just see about that.”
She unscrewed the top and poured herself a glass.
“Heeeeeere’s A Serious Monster!” She said, downing it in one gulp. Suddenly, she was startled by the phone ringing. She picked it up.