"My agency, man..." He takes a long, melancholic sip. "The Boom Boom Room. Our concept was combining high art with the lowest forms of marketing -- the colour red, breasts, and oil painting..."
"I convinced my partners to reinvest some of our profits in an even-more high-concept 'cultural incubator' called "Thin Air". The artists were happy, the clients were happy."
"I was financing a group of poets in East Revachol who were developing a new, universal poetic language... but then it all went to ♥♥♥♥..." He looks toward the bay and takes a long, wistful sip of his beer.
"It was ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ awesome. Too bad I went on a jog, unleashing a cascade of doom that washed it all away."



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