The Fiction and Poetry of Jason Thibeault

Chapter .1

you shouldn’t do it.

why not? ive gone over the script a million times. simple. in, out. easy money.

thats not it. script is fine. its ur reason.

wtf you my mom now?

dude, how long we been friends? how long we been doing this stuff together?


thought so. listen to me when i say this. don’t do it. sell the fucking script. make money that way

is it because you know him?

we both know him. u can tell yourself you dont care but i know u arent that fucking callus


and theres a good chance you will get caught. what does graymatter think?

he didn’t really say anything about the mark. just fixed some of the code. he said it would be more efficient the way he fixed it

go back and ask him. hes crew. he should have a say.

you know graymatter. he wont say shit.

yeah but hes got thoughts on it, guaranteed. hes always thinking something even if he doesnt say it


Nelson was sure he could see pancake leaning over the keyboard, staring blankly at the screen. He always did that when he was working something out in his head, trying to wrap his mind around an intellectual problem that he wasn’t suited to solve.


sorry dude. i dont mean to rain on ur parade. but i just got bad feeling about the mark. shouldn’t ever be someone we all know. that shit has a way of coming back to u and i dont need the heat


neither do you pa


all right man, ill see if i can find a taker for the package. u really think the script is good?

well, yeah, and it makes sense cuz gray took a look

fuck u