LOLSCHACH's Journal: April 13, 2009:
Hungry since Pac-Land excursion. Break into Dreiberg's for beans. Open cabinet. No beans. Remembering phrase Dreiberg repeats, look inside refrigerator. No cool beans. Huge disappointment. Nothing to eat but candy bars. Try one called Mr. Goodbar. Spit it out after two chomps. False advertising. Mixture of peanut butter and chocolate, cannot tell which comes first. No seperation, but intermingling of flavors.
Pick up another candy bar, and unwrap it. Something gold catches my eye. Toss it aside. Hear Dreiberg walk in, complaining about broken lock. Sees me. "Fuuuuuuuck. Really, LOLSCHACH, Really? I thought you would get the hint since I haven't bought beans in months." Look at Dreiberg, has pants unzipped. Point that out. He turns bright shade of red. Reminds me of rouge seen on cheeks of whore walking 76th street.
Dreiberg awkwardly turns around, corrects situation then notices piece of golden paper on floor. Starts jumping up and down, nearly bringing the apartment down on both of our heads. Breaks into song. Disturbed and disgusted as overweight man dances around, "I've got a golden ticket." Alarmed and starting to make my exit only to be stopped.
"LOLSCHACH, you know what this means? We've got the golden ticket. We're going to the factory!" Explain to Dreiberg that I've already been to the retarded children jerky factory. He stares at me dumbfounded.
"Ummmmm, no. Not that factory. THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY!!!!" Dreiberg smiling and dancing, looking like Veidt at a Village People concert.
Suddenly understand why. He's planning another trip. This time to Veidt's nightclub. "No, no, no. It's an actual chocolate factory. The greatest chocolate factory in the world."
Dreiberg spends hours reassuring me this is not Veidt's famous den of sin. Finally convinced. Agree to go along, nothing better to do. Factory visit set for tomorrow morning. 8AM sharp. Must go home. Sleep. Criminals will not feel the wrath of LOLSCHACH tonight.
TO BE CONTINUED....