Thread: Four Letters (Ariamella and Dane Stalling)

Well, Hank said, considering, I hadn't realized Walk had said all that. Maybe making the byline anonymous would be a lot safer, you know, given the nature of the articles. We had to get a restraining order once because Andrea picked up a deranged fan. He was sending her fingernails and hair clippings and stuff. He was dialing his phone as he talked. Excuse me, he said to Marisa, then, Yeah, China, can you get a couple of Airs out of stock and bring them to Claudette's old desk? Bring the 11 and the 13. Thanks. The Red Paper Source is a way we share leads anonymously within the office, Hank said, You can ask someone where the best steak in town is with no problem, but if you want to find out where to find a heroin dealer for a story or for background, who do you ask? Somebody in this room knows or knows someone who knows. I'll show you. He stood up and faced the room. Hey, anyone knows where to buy heroin, give me a red paper on it. The conversations lulled a little and a few people looked up, but it didn't seem to surprise anyone. It'll take a few hours. The hallway over there leads to the restrooms and there's a bulletin board around the corner with a counter under it. There's a bunch of red strips of paper there. Someone will grab one on their way to the bathroom and put the information I need on it and stick it to the bulletin board. We do all kinds of stories, so people are used to hearing about how to find prostitutes, who to call for a hit man, how to hack email passwords, how to steal identities, who sells explosives within ten miles of here. Anything, really. The system works pretty well. It protects the in-office source, but we can share ticklish stuff if we have to. It saves a lot of research time. A young Asian woman walked in then with a couple of flat Apple Computer boxes. She set them down on the desk. Hey, I'm China, she said, holding out her hand, I work in IT with Megan. China's my nickname because I'm so delicate. She looked like she could chew nails. A young man with a loose tie walked in and handed Hank a sheet of paper. Hank's aw-shucks demeanor fell away as he read the copy. No good, he said, Shit, don't they teach active voice at UCLA any more? He handed the sheet to China. Can you help Jamie with this- he's got seven passive verbs, two dangling participles, and damned if he didn't manage to typo the word 'typo.' Never bring me copy again until she says you can. China smiled sweetly at him. Your ass is mine, you pretty, pretty intern. Jamie muttered Grammar Nazi under his breath and China punched him. He's fucking Grammar Attila the Hun , man, she said, don't make him small. Hank smiled as he watched them go. The IT staff realized the writers wouldn't read their training materials if the writing was bad, so they traded skills. One of the editors taught them good writing and they taught him how to find out if his son was using porn on his home computer. China is actually one of our tightest proofreaders now, but she likes keeping the equipment running. All right, then, That's about it for me. My desk is over in the other corner. Holler if you need anything. He turned to go, then turned back. I'm glad you've decided to go anonymous on those pieces. I just feel a lot more comfortable with it that way.