"Now, having purchased our supplies, and going back along the dimly lit hallway of the theatre, small yellow lights peeking out of the posters that hung close on the wall until the swinging doors were on us and they opened with a soft swish; passing the throngs of late arrivers that all moved in to the theatre; me leading, the boots of my hunt on my feet, a flask of whisky under my arm, pouring the whisky into our large cups and passing it over my shoulder in the dark to my companion to pour into his soft drink, drinking them, and stepping over the bodies we passed in the dark, feeling the cool air conditioner of the theatre and smelling the good smell of popcorn, I was altogether happy again.
Read more: McSweeney’s Internet Tendency
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