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1-711 - SkipFron
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1-711 [Frook 1, chapter 7.1, brick 1]

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They say the end of the book is worth the wait. To anyone who hasn't lived--or will never live--through the most historical writer's crisis in the evolution of the art of writing (the first day anyone bothered to learn it), this may seem a very bland tagline, entirely devoid of even the most scant breath of a hope of a smigen of a resemblence to anything grazing originality--or at least a creative attempt at ripping off someone else's original tagline, or even a slogan with a word or two changed; or at least misspelt. Or even just not copied exactly in the precise handwriting of an original bathroom stall scribble. Or at least copied exactly bit for bit to a separate storage device that doesn't equate two sets of identical binary information as the same concept regardless of how many hard copies exist--
 But, those who lived through the first six hours of the 7-hour Writer's Crisis of decently-later-than-early-but-not-really-dead-middle-either Flutonia, "The end of the book" meant quite a bit more than your standard reading of a bad trashy romance novel or a quick reading of a sort-of-finished-but-not-really published work like Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy or the First Testament of the Christian Bible. To them, it meant a great, conclusive end; the ultimate and total triumph of the gensis of the thing in question to its ultimate conclusion.
 If the first page of a story were like the dawn of time (or at least a very, very, very long period of it so excessively long as to be practically indistinguishable from an indefinite or infinite stretch of time, such as from the dawn of the known universe known as Okuaka to its big crunch 88 bilennia later to the end of this sentence), then the wait for the last one would be more like waiting for time to end entirely. Hence the tagline, outside of the 7-hour Writer's Crisis of Flutonia, would be better translated as "The end of time is worth the wait," which would be quite a lot more catchy and original to anyone in Okuaka not thoroughly familiar with the fractal nonlinear saga Frangles. (The fans of which begin slitting their wristwatches after having heard it for the 49th time, and after their 343rd, begin banging themselves in the head with temporal anomaly stone tablets until they forget the entire saga, forget the time, forget the concept of time, forget what time they failed to achieve any of the above, or just plain knock themselves unconcscious into the timeless bliss of an indefinite coma. ...Or indefinite comma, in the case of a few writers, editors, and M&Ms.)


 By the end of the 7-hour Writer's Crisis of Flutonia, everyone involved in the whole ordeal had either suffered enough brard darmage to more or less forget how much they had, or been hauled away to local hospitals established for the comatose Flutonians. /../


KK line: [This is the story of one of the former, as far as he knew.] vs
Piq line: [My name is Skip Friter, and this is the story of my minor and unimportant camio in the final hour of the 7-hour Writer's Crisis of Flutonia]

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