all this talk about dogs? Dirk wondered.
Everyone knows the Unknown are cat people: Williams three eccentric,
exceedingly loud catsJohann Sebastian Bach, La Maga, and Wolfgang
Amadeus Mozart; Scotts Maestro, whose
photo graces a page in The Unknown; and Dirks lifelong preference
for cats (hed own one right now, if his lease permitted it).
Dirk didnt know Franks take on the matter; sure, he wrote
some silly article about dog care in Frisco, but does he own a dog? Does
he relish the slobbering slave mentality of dogs over the cool, sometimes
haughty, individualism of cats? No matter, since
Franks inclusion in the Unknown has always been a source of
Still, leaving the question of Franks role aside, what does this
recent explosion of dog commentary mean? Dirk pondered (deftly
shifting from w to p
with a simple keystroke). Could this mean the true end
of the Unknown? Was everything going to the dogs?
The end of the Unknown . . . sighed Dirk
to himself. How often had he dreamed of that eventuality, to remove the
burden of hypertext celebrity and proofreading?
The end . . . wait, wait just a golldanged
minute! The end! Thats right! The lost
final scene of The Unknown, wiped from Dirks desktop by
a mysterious computer crash, months and months ago.
Should he try to recreate it? Could he? Of course he could! he thundered,
and he would! True, it wouldnt be the same pungent piece hed
forged during the heat of yet another Unknown flame war, but it would
provide some crucial information that had eluded closure-seekers
for so long, information that included the vital role of a cat in all
this Unknown silliness.
Yes, Dirk would attempt the reforging, and it would
be good . . . unless, of course, he blundered.
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