This P.U.R.E bonus chapter is brought to you by:

The New #7

one hour rotation transfers on all Orange BTWNs

Alters with surround sound, new pews, and access to 1.2 million stations

Have you listened to your God today?

passengers, the hour-long trek along the city’s route of worship was just part of their week. The #7 existed just as death and taxes did—a glumly accepted requirement. The magnificent ceilings on the transfer station and the route’s unique mechanics lost a battle against monotony and routine. It wasn’t even close.

BONUS CHAPTER(( winston and saffy

go to church ))

W inston and Saffy were never impressed by the

#7’s infrastructure and most of Los Angeles felt similarly indifferent. For the vast majority of the city’s

XTIAN - 44the good book read by a

good topless girl

So much was lost in the doldrums of a weekly ritual. The #7 had five transfer stations, and while Winston and Saffy’s was perhaps the most impressive, the young brother and sister, donning red outfits of a parental-matched hue, were still happier to horse around on the velvet ropes that mazed the parishioners who waited for the next available route to religion. The rotating images above them of Tom Selleck, waterfalls and sandwiches failed to impress them, even as it was their only glimpse into The Internet at this youthful point in their existence. The monotony of the ceiling was unique to the Westside

NET - 08a weekly sermon from

sandy herself

Square’s transfer with the #7.—other windows into The Internet throughout Los Angeles were chaotic and infinitely random, but this particular station featured a filtered view into the World Wide Web.

Winston and Saffy didn’t care, though; they were too busy breaking into fits of teasing, punching and hair pulling. “You two knock it off,” their mother said. She wore no make-up, but the fire burned bright in her firmly pressed pant-suit. “If you can’t behave you’ll be

worshipping with us this afternoon.” They didn’t yet know that riding alone was as much a reward for their parents as it was for them. Winston and Saffy would remain composed and presentable for the remainder of their time in the cue, under the watchful eye

of “Mum and Dad,” waiting for their turn turn to board their Altar. It was inside the Altar that worship actually took place. “Why do we have to wear stupid red?” Saffy asked. “No one else wears matching clothes, it’s so stupid.” “For the last time, Saffron, it’s not stupid,” Mum said. “And I don’t want to hear that language while we wait for an Altar. It’s blasphemous.” “But—” “—Don’t make your mother tell you again, Saffron. Internethodists wear red in celebration of the Great Firewall and if you two paid more attention on Sundays, you’d know that,” Dad said. “I

ISPN - 44cats don’t sin

RADIS - 02

don’t want to hear another word out of either one of you.” “I didn’t say anyth—” “Not one word, Winston.” The brother and sister

then watched their parents step into an Altar and disappear beyond the bend before a far-off curtain could be drawn closed. Parents like to worship alone, outside of the interfering thoughts of their children,

especially when they’re eleven and nine years old, respectively. There had to be a time when children were aged enough to handle an hour of religious fellowship on their own. Saffy and Winston waited, not so patiently, for their turn to board an Altar. Instead of watch the motion of mustache,

mustard and mist above them or marvel at the ivory-swirled floor they stood upon or the majesty of this transfer station’s great arch that kept The Internet at bay, Saffy and Winston returned to their games of teasing, punching and hair pulling. “You’re completely incorrigible,” her older brother said, squeezing her hand even tighter. “Why don’t you ever listen to what Mum and Dad say? They know what’s best for us, don’t you know?” “Here’s an Altar, don’t you know?” Saffy mocked. She was already developing in the physical sense and it intimidated Winston, who

WING - 34your angel

UNCN - 92 swords!

wasn’t sure whether or not his testicles had yet dropped. She had always listened to him, but the day when all that would stop was obviously near. That day was apparent to Winston and their parents, but still out of Saffy’s

grasp. She couldn’t yet see herself as a person, nevermind as an individual. Her reflection was skin and bones and not much thought behind what was quickly growing into something of a weapon. “Don’t be a doofus,

don’t you know?” Saffy wondered if most of the booths were filled with warm thoughts, but she gave up thinking without an answer. She splurged ahead into the first vacant Altar that scrolled by and Winston stumbled to keep up. She fell onto the floor in a fit of hysterics as he

plopped down into a seat, immediately figuring with the dial. She kept kicking and calling him a “doofus,” but his concentration wasn’t to be broken. “Get up, Saffy,” Winston scowled. “We’re already missing the opening part of the sermon. Don’t be so immature.” Winston pushed the dial to ISPN-44, one of the more popular Internethodist channels and undoubtedly the same one that their parents were listening to just a few dozen Altars ahead. The man that bellowed from the surround-sound speakers seemed very unhappy, at least to Saffy’s ears. Before she could even get off the floor,

KSEA - 17 richard ellis reads

CUDL - 48 cuz it’s warm

he was already droning on in uninspiration. “Get up, Saffy,” Winston yelled. Or as much as his angry whisper would allow. She huffed and puffed into her seat and looked

at the long and skinny LCD screen that flashed opposite of the closed curtain. In a rotating column of flashy images and block letters, the government-approved religions advertised their Sunday morning fodder.

There were over one million stations of worship, but Saffy’s family always listened to Internethodism’s most popular podcast. Some of the other stations actually looked interesting, at least to Saffy, but then physical discomfort took over her thoughts. The bench

was hard. It was cold. She didn’t know why, but she was already disagreeing with what ISPN-44 was saying. Cats aren’t that special, she thought. “Can we at least change the station, doofus? This guy’s voice gives me the creeps,” Saffy said, curling her dress shoes beneath her legs and draping her arms around her knees. “I don’t like him at all, not one bit.” Winston rolled his eyes and flitted the dial a click or two until the screen read “ISPN-47.” It was a woman’s voice this time, but she pretty much picked up where the creepy man’s voice had left off. Internethodism had dozens

COKE - 69 find your up.

of podcasts to choose from each week. “We are thankful of the buses’ protection like a child in the arms of a parent,” the woman drolled on, obviously reading, trying in vain to inflict an

ounce of surprise into scripture written with the purpose of sounding spontaneous. “Fighting those arms is fighting our protection. Cats don’t fight their protection, they embrace it and then live happy lives.

That’s the purest LOL of them all.” “Change it,” Saffy demanded, but for no reason other than spoiledness. Winston moved the dial to ISPN-42. This man had an accent, but was pretty much saying the same Internethodist clichés. “Change it,” Saffy said smugly. “Change

WIKI - 00 this is your map.

it, Winston.” “You know we’re only supposed to listen to the ISPN-40s,” he said, sitting back against the hard bench. “It’s all the same, just listen already.” Saffy moved to touch the dial herself and Winston slapped her hand away. When she tried again, he bit her on the arm. The third time she reached out to change the station, he socked her in the stomach. “You just touched my breasts,” she said. “I’m telling.” “You don’t even have breasts. All the boys call you dimple chest.” “Which boys?” Saffy

BOOM - goes the dynamite.

WEBD - 03 naked cant haz

cheezburger pizza.

demanded, sucking her knees back into her fetally-positioned arms. There was no way that her Nathaniel had said something to Winston, he was much too shy for that. Nathaniel’s friend Jerry might, but Jerry was terrified of her

Winston. There was always Johnny and Mike, but they were dorks and she didn’t care what they thought. All these boys would disappear from her thoughts the day she actually did grow breasts, but that Sunday morning they were

infinitely more important than the musings of a religion she didn’t care for. “Your friends are ugly and they don’t even really like you. Mum and Dad just buy you more video games than their poor-fucked parents.”

Winston furiously rubbed his fingers against his forehead, mumbled under his breath and bowed towards the dial. Saffy looked for lightening bolts that’d surely strike her dead beneath the weight of her cursing, completely unaware of how exactly apt “poor-fucked” was as an adjective. “Sam has more games than me,” Winston said. “I have a game,” Saffy said. “Think of a number.” “What kind of number?” Winston asked. Saffy glared. Even before she could speak a word, Saffy was capable of delivering a pissed-off look that’d knock the hamstring

SLNT - 00 the quiet cuddle of

a warm woman

WEBD - 78 mary remakes you

into a virgin.

KSEA - 86 sneaking into brand

new socks.

out of any man with a beating heart. Her ability was much more advanced than her knowledge of it, especially at this transitional point of her existence. “Sure,” he said, “sure, 10, yeah, 10,” he

said, incredibly nervous about was going to take place. “Close your eyes and count to 10 when I tell you to, but you can’t stop or Mum and Dad’s life depends on it, like their Alter will blow up when you open

your eyes or stop counting or whatever. And you have to sit over here, switch places with me, okay?” Winston closed his eyes and started counting before he begrudgingly stood up and walked a step across the Altar’s floor.

He could feel the Altar’s movement around its course, but it was hardly spinning quick enough to knock him off balance. Saffy kept an eye firmly on her brother’s closed lids and spun the dial faster than anything she had ever turned before. “5, 6, 7,” Winston never opened his eyes, even once he realized that Saffy was changing the station, which was right around, “8, 9...” “What you create is what you are,” a woman said, battling past a barrage of drumming that barreled past her meek

CHWY - 32 inspiration from

the defeat of nazis

SLNT - 03 happy thoughts &

wordless meditation

pronouncements. “You are spending your time with a being that couldn’t exist without you. A mundane email to your mother-in-law; a cooperative art project meant solely to get you laid; a book about The Internet; the violin

accompaniment to the lullaby of your life, a living, breathing child. Without your energies, it’s not even an abortion. It’s a non-starter.” “Let me do it,” Winston said. He shoved Saffy into the corner and belched in her face. “Bet me

that I go back to one of the Internethodist stations.” “Bet you what?” “$30,” he said. “What’s my number?” “I’ll close my eyes and count until I don’t

want to anymore,” Saffy said. She was impatient to get to the next station but scared that her brother would end up on amongst the Internethodist channels and that Winston would once again establish conformity. She was sure that Winston couldn’t spin the dial as fast as she could, even if he guessed the right direction. The dial spun silently. “Wait! How do I know you won’t look for ISPN-whatever-whatever?” “Feel my eyelids,” Winston said, grabbing Saffy’s still-child chubby fingers and putting them

EMO - 84 bring a dog a bone

on his face. Saffy counted to 317 and then opened her eyes. And then Winston’s. Silence continued to rain from the surround sound. “Oh great, you broke it.” “Whatever-whatever, I

didn’t break it,” she said, newly happy with the phrase she had picked up some place or the next. “You touched it last, doofus. Count and I’ll fix it.” They traded places again, neither one of them looking to

see that the station’s call number read SLNT-00, a station quietly focused for meditation. Winston counted to 26, only pausing twice to say that Saffy had broken the Altar. She stuck her hand on her hip and her hip towards the window; the action spoke more truth than the flashing letters that signaled The Hollies-themed

sermons on HOLI-38. It was there she stopped. For good measure, her tongue was out and pointed at her oblivious brother. “Every morning I would see her waiting at the stop/Sometimes she’d shop and she would show me what she bought/All the people stared as if we were both quite insane/Someday my name and hers are going to be the same” “You owe me $30,” Saffy said, bored with her choice quicker than she was with Winston’s random discovery of silence. Just because The Hollies (or someone reading their lyrics) were waiting at that bus stop, did not make Saffy a willing participant. “Think of a letter.”

“I” “Besides I,” she said in a baby voice. And then grown up beyond her years, full of the scorned contempt that every woman knows how to pull off with a breathless pffffft: “Pffffft, fine...just go to a station that starts

with S.” More silence soon pumped through the speakers, but Saffy felt more calm about it this time, as if the serenity was finally in a language she understood.

Nothing was broken and for a moment, it seemed like so much was fixed. These thoughts weren’t able to coalesce in her brain, but the sensation was understood throughout her being. And that’s when the Altar did, in all actuality, break.

TVTV - 83 the reality of a reality

TV star Their Altar, one that had bore witness to childish goofing and innocent exploration, suddenly turned violent with its velocity. Saffy and Winston were whipped back into their seats with the new break-neck speed of the #7. The dial turned autonomously and seemingly automatically before landing on FRQ-34. A whirring release of guitar-feedback and the screeches of LOLcats in heat poured from the speakers at a volume before-then unheard. The combination knocked Saffy unconscious. Exactly in the middle of the twenty-six Altars that separated Saffy and Winston from their parents, something reached out of the ethernet and into the #7 for a successful effort of sabotage. For many years, both government and media attributed it to a secret cell of terrorists without demands or cause or responsibility, but due time

the Altars were turned on their side, their passengers sucked into The Internet never to be heard from again. Among the hundreds that were killed were Saffy and Winston’s parents. Winston shattered his skull on

the LCD screen, leaving him without basic motor skills or memories, which saved him from a crippling depression. Saffy, on the other hand, was physically unscathed. She merely blacked out and regained consciousness days later, her memories also devoid of the blood-

would expose the truth. However, the culprits and reasons didn’t matter to Winston and Saffron (nor anyone else aboard the #7 on that fateful day), as the act of violence whirled the Altars into a speed too fast for the tracks. Many of

stained images of her Altar. However, the sadness of her memories just prior to the incident would never leave. It’d take many lifetimes for Saffy to stop blaming herself—her incessant changing of the Altar’s stations, her cursing, her anger towards Winston, her uncertainty about what caused the accident in the first place—but she only had one. And it’d have to be lived as an orphan, an orphan who feared God so much she shunned religion in its entirety. At least in that regard, Saffy would never be alone.

ZACH - 11 lol with the 2nd cumming

GOGLE - 18 search your

inner-engine.

OWLS - 18 always watching.

always.

MDNA - 82 virgin remarries you into a make.

GOGLE - 18 search your

inner-engine.

GOVT - 09 not even hannity can

shout boo here..

INET - 99 super immaculate

conception.