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Description

This is Futz! He’s a cockroach!!
Okay I have not talked about this story or its characters in a long time and it’s probably got the least development out of any of them so forgive me.
Futz lives in a tiny studio apartment on the 28th floor and works a boring repetitive office job 6 days of the week. It rains for most of the year and almost everyone glares at you when you walk down the street. Futz is desensitized/hardened to the constantly drab life and has become a very dry, sarcastic person that’s pretty easy to walk all over. In regards to negativity not much phases him and he tends to be a rude/aloof first, talk later kid of person.
The place used to be a lot nicer! It didn’t rain so much, people were happier, there was more to DO and CARE about. But a couple years ago a new mayor was elected, and it was soon after that the BIG ENTERTAINMENT CRASH happened. Suddenly, all at once, all the music, tv, and theatre was just gone, and nearly every major talent in the entertainment industry was ever to be seen again. All anyone can remember is a huge thunderstorm like no other, and after that it would rain every day and all you’d ever hear on the radio and tv is static. Over time people became afraid to put their talents to use because anyone that did fucking disappeared.
Most people miss what the world used to be but it’s become sort of a taboo subject. People are also paranoid they’ll also be taken away somehow if they so much as talk too much about it. Conversations here consist mostly of “sure is rainy today” and “well I gotta go to work now”. No one has very many friends, the only people Futz really talks to are a waitress at a nearby diner and the ghost of a cicada with no limbs that haunts his apartment building.
Futz’s only real possessions are a secret collection of tapes with music recorded from jazz radio back before everything went to static, one of his late father’s wings signed by his favourite musician, and an old trumpet that he has absolutely zero skill with. He tries it out sometimes, thinking maybe if he gets good enough he’ll get sent off to wherever everyone else went, but just can’t seem to get the hang of it. He seems to sing along to his tapes pretty okay, but always stays quiet because at the same time he’s terrified to get sent off to wherever everyone else went.
Sometimes late at night he can hear someone playing piano up in the penthouse, but every time he checks up there it’s completely empty.
Here’s a song for him www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5IEt6…

Description

This is Futz! He’s a cockroach!!
Okay I have not talked about this story or its characters in a long time and it’s probably got the least development out of any of them so forgive me.
Futz lives in a tiny studio apartment on the 28th floor and works a boring repetitive office job 6 days of the week. It rains for most of the year and almost everyone glares at you when you walk down the street. Futz is desensitized/hardened to the constantly drab life and has become a very dry, sarcastic person that’s pretty easy to walk all over. In regards to negativity not much phases him and he tends to be a rude/aloof first, talk later kid of person.
The place used to be a lot nicer! It didn’t rain so much, people were happier, there was more to DO and CARE about. But a couple years ago a new mayor was elected, and it was soon after that the BIG ENTERTAINMENT CRASH happened. Suddenly, all at once, all the music, tv, and theatre was just gone, and nearly every major talent in the entertainment industry was ever to be seen again. All anyone can remember is a huge thunderstorm like no other, and after that it would rain every day and all you’d ever hear on the radio and tv is static. Over time people became afraid to put their talents to use because anyone that did fucking disappeared.
Most people miss what the world used to be but it’s become sort of a taboo subject. People are also paranoid they’ll also be taken away somehow if they so much as talk too much about it. Conversations here consist mostly of “sure is rainy today” and “well I gotta go to work now”. No one has very many friends, the only people Futz really talks to are a waitress at a nearby diner and the ghost of a cicada with no limbs that haunts his apartment building.
Futz’s only real possessions are a secret collection of tapes with music recorded from jazz radio back before everything went to static, one of his late father’s wings signed by his favourite musician, and an old trumpet that he has absolutely zero skill with. He tries it out sometimes, thinking maybe if he gets good enough he’ll get sent off to wherever everyone else went, but just can’t seem to get the hang of it. He seems to sing along to his tapes pretty okay, but always stays quiet because at the same time he’s terrified to get sent off to wherever everyone else went.
Sometimes late at night he can hear someone playing piano up in the penthouse, but every time he checks up there it’s completely empty.
Here’s a song for him www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5IEt6…