A.R. White- How can one describe him?

Perhaps "a pile of human excrement" would be sufficient, but that fails to capture his devious side. But "devious" might also be a misnomer as well, as that connotes some modicum of success in his undertakings. No, I would describe the selfish A.R. White as a man out of place, someone who dares to think that his dreams are something to be achieved. A truly intelligent man, like myself, understands what dreams are really for. Dreams are the secret desires of other men- the things that can make slaves of us all.

<a note from Edie- Mr. A.R. White is a wonderful man, and I enjoy his works. I feel obliged to tell you that he is seeking representation. If you should happen to be interested, please contact me by tube-mail at edie-at-wbandc-dot-com.>

Exhibit A: Festival of the Bizarre - Sample Chapter One
Commentary: Mr. E.G. Wallaby
Dictated to: Edie Snickels, June 6, Year of our lord 1807

<I'm not sure about this one. Mr. White is quite a nice person, and I have no idea why he would craft something so... violent.> Excellent. Excellent. EXCELLENT! Sex, drugs and explosions! Precicely what the world needs! And I should know. After all, certain types of debauchery are my specialiy! The old boy has really outdone himself on this one! Visionary, really. Absolutely visionary.

For such a marvelous effort, send him two... no... three ampoules of morphine. That ought to keep this stuff coming! <Dictation ends.>

<It's strange. I'm not usually up for that sort of thing, but I couldn't stop reading. Maybe it's for you. You can download it here.>

Exhibit B: The Gearheart - Sample Chapter One
Commentary: Mr. E.G. Wallaby
Dictated to: Edie Snickels, June 6, Year of our lord 1807

<Mr. Wallaby doesn't know that I switched his cocaine with baking soda. The next time he goes to address his headache, he'll get a nice little surprise... Well, perhaps I can make his skull throb.> Well good morning, Darling Daffodil! Dare I ask why you're smiling so affectionately at me? Really? Oh, I would rather fancy a neck rub, my love! But first, I need to address this post from A.R..

"The Gearheart." Right. Rubbish. Thought so. Why would someone make a heart out of gears? No doubt this is youthful, dime-novel nonsense, marketed specifically to these "steampunks" I've seen racing down the street. Now about that neck rub... <Dictation ends.>

<I rather liked the story. You can download it here.>

Exhibit A: The Timer
Commentary: Mr. E.G. Wallaby
Dictated to: Edie Snickels, June 6, Year of our lord 1807

<Mr. Wallaby is still smarting from the wicked slap I planted upon his cheek. I suppose one to the cheek is what one gets for cheekiness. Perhaps if he tries a kiss, he'll get one in the- Oh! Here he comes.> Hello, my Dubious Daisy. I have no doubt you've been letting the shrew take control of your pen whilst I was away? Good. <He's still rubbing his cheek.> That will show the tube-watchers what a right tart you can be. <Mr. Wallaby has begun to petulantly sort his papers.>

What is this rubbish? Another story from A.R.? No doubt another gimmick. Ah! Yes. Here we have it. The story is exactly five thousand words. Well that doesn't make any sense. Why would five thousand words be so important?<Dictation ends.>

<I rather liked the story. You can download it here.>