It's another month and we're still treading water with the vim and vigor of a dead rat. All the naysayers and malcontents hiding in the cave of our thoughts tell us we're behind schedule, but we like to think of it as a necessary delay. As we slowly gather resources and knowledge of the intricacies of publishing in the modern age, we move another step closer to completing our long overdue Principia Discordia project.
Just when we thought we had everything done and set to go to press, that freakin' editor decided to alter the layout on us.
"This should help us keep our asses out of the fire for a little while" he says to us one afternoon. We all look at him with thinly disguised contempt. Here we go again.
"No good perfectionist son-of-a-bitch" someone mutters under their breath.
"What was that?!" thundered the Editor. We all looked at the floor for a while as his gaze shifted over each of us, lingering longer than comfort allows.
After a few pointless attempts to negotiate a ceasefire the EIC (editor-in-chief) threatened to fire us all and start over with monkeys. While his threats seemed hollow, we couldn't be sure. We blinked. He laughed.
"Back to the drawing boards, monkeys!" he shouted and left, slamming the door behind him.
So, we started over and are once again nearing completion. For the love of god, someone save us. We need better jobs, more pay. Anything is better than working for that evil man. All he cares about is the sound of the presses rolling and the smell of ink.