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Author Dan Brown strode through the brass lobby of a bar and ordered a beer, his eyes white as something white. The bartender had eyes too.
"What'll it be?" asked the bartender with his mouth. He raised the tone of his voice towards the end of the statement to express that he was asking a question 'cos when someone speaks to you you can't see question marks. "What'll what be?" replied author Dan Brown, answering a question with a question and putting the emphasis on the what part of the reply, showing that the question he just asked is related to the question he was just asked. The bartender shifted his eyes. A little too shiftily, thought the author (Dan Brown); was it a challenge? Did he recognise me? Was he expecting me? Was I expecting this? Of course I was, I'm Dan Brown. trust no-one Dan. Disassemble him with your brains.
The bartender's silence spoke leaflets. After what seemed like a long time, he unsilenced and spoke again. "What would you like to drink?" he said slowly, a little too slowly. Almost like it was in code. If there was one thing Dan Brown could do, besides bookery, it was being able to pull hidden codes from seemingly nowhere, at least to anyone who wasn't he - Dan Brown. Their eyes stood locked onto each other's eyes. It was an anagram. The author began calculating. "Lout, hoodwink a Wild Turkey," He sounded out to the bartender, confident he'd cracked the code. The bartender folded his arms and said "I'm not sure what you're talking about." Dan, with his pointy sharp-like wit, replied "Well, I'm not sure what you're listening about."
The bar man walked away (hopping always led to questions, questions he could do without) and all of a quickly Dan "Author Man" Brown realised in his brain what was going on (not what was actually happening, just his perception of things)... it was a double-cross (like what traitors do, not a symbol of two crosses. Dan feckin loves symbols!)Straight away he called his agent "Agent, it's me, Symbol Simon. I've been double-crossed." "No you haven't Dan. You're not a clever master of symbols who has been drawn into a world of espionage and secrets too important for the world to know. You're a writer. And barely that. Now leave me alone, I'm on the loo." Dan Brown(ed off) sneered at the camera (which wasn't there) "So, they've got to you too."
He left the bar in search of a bar, with a less confus-...even greater controversial mystery hidden within inside; one where he could find answers to riddles he hadn't made up yet, by himself in singular aloneness. Walking down the wet rained-on street he observed the night setting in, making day go dark. Street lights shone and puddles reflected, like candles and wobbly mirrors, but outdoors. An attractive, slender woman in her twenties stood on the street corner as Dan Brown strode up to her side. "Excuse me, miss," He began, and the girl yelped. "Yelp!" she yelped. "I never noticed you behind me there, how'd you do that!?" Dan had been waiting for a situation such as this (a woman startled by his sneak-...stealth) to try his new line. "Brownian Motion baby - it's elementary." The girl was awestruck, but with his wit or celebrity recognition? Dan could not be sure. Both. "Point me to the most dubious, suspect-looking bar you know of, madame.

I stole that, from a comment that stole it from a comment in a thread about a review of one of Browns books.
Nobody expects the spanish inquisition!!!!!

"History will be kind to me, as I intend to write it"- Sir Winston Churchill
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Some reviews are better than what it is that they are talking about.
If there is a single truth about Magic, it is that nothing on earth so efficiently evades it.

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