<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Original</div><div class="spoiler_body">"Can't stick around, man, sorry," the delivery guy said as he collected his stylus. "On the clock, you know." He passed the box over to Tyson. The box itself was cardboard, closed with shipping tape. Whatever was inside felt solid, and wasn't shifting around. It weighed a few pounds, but wasn't unusually heavy, and one corner was rumpled, like it had fallen.<br/><br/>"Yo, my phone will work, man." The DJ passed his phone over to Tyson, some variety of hot new smartphone. As Tyson checked out his phone, he pulled out a short cable attached to his system, and plugged Tyson's phone in.<br/><br/>Finished with that, he pushed over a small stand for propping up phones, along with a small jumble of wires and a cup. You can probably prop it up somewhere decent with this, if you don't feel like playing camera man, dude."<br/></div></div><br/>“Ah, man sucks for you. ‘bouta miss a good one. Take it easy.” Tyson remarked slyly, shaking the package. “This thing vibrate?”<br/><br/>As Ty and the DJ exchanged a bit of equipment over the decks, he replied, “Yeah, man, plug me in. I'ma take this down to the bar and let Lindsay take the vid. Get some good range without it being in a speaker. And turn this track down a little, we are going for a bit of ambience with this one.”<br/><br/>Stepping down and headed for Lindsay, he held the box up at her. “Got something to open this with? Or do I just shove it in the office? Ah fuck it I’m nozy anyway, pop out a knife. I'll take that, while you take these.” He said, handing her the smartphone as well as a few object to prop it up for video. "Working double duty with the camera tonight. Get as much as you can, I'm not sure how much space it's got."<br/><br/>Open box in hand. Ty-Dy jogged back over to the booth and took a seat at the light rig. While waiting for the ladies to give a signal that they were ready, he remembered that Alyson had shot him a text. He replied to her question of what happened, “{Short Ans: hes a dickhead. Long Ans: Desiree (?) wouldnt put out and he got pissed. IDK if she turned him down for a date or what. Fuckem.}” Sent…. Wait, he probably shouldn’t have said any names yet, although the whelp on the side of her skull would be sure to give it away… “{I mean a totes-not-desiree got punched. Keep names DL for right now.}” …Oops…<br/><br/>“Hey,” Tyson said to the DJ, “So no Jasper tonight, huh? Whadaya think about him and how he runs the place? This a typical day in the office?”<br/><br/>While talking to the DJ, he goes back to texting Alyson, “{Is sleeping w managers a thing at Candy-U? Did i pick the wrong spot to work at?}”<br/><br/>…<br/><br/>“{Unrelated: I want a Cage Night at Trouble. Totes ratings. ‘Book It Vince.’}” Sent.