The Third Fictional Reporter reporting. . .
COLUMBUS – This past Wednesday, the Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device fulfilled its life-long dream of not having to get up in the morning and go through this all over again, by hanging itself from the Third Avenue Bridge in the Victorian Village neighborhood of Columbus. The Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device took it extremely hard when a delusional Decanus Picto disbanded his touring group, The Biaviians, of which the Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device was a member, because laptop D’arcy Wretzky’s battery died, and Decanus was too wrecked to realized he could just plug her back in.
The BAGD's "happy ending," at the end of a rope tied to the 3rd Avenue Bridge. It's probably best this way.
The Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device (BAGD) began life on an assembly line in Old Cydonia, on the planet Biaveh. It got its degree from Biaveh Polytechnic, where it majored in physics, and did undergraduate research in generating gravity distortion fields. It then worked as a hand truck aboard the Biaviian ship T. F. S. Speculum for 28 years.
The Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device came to Earth in 2007, when T. F. S. Speculum was stationed in a tool shed in an up-scale trailer park in Bear, Delaware, where it was loaned to former cashier and BZ luminary Jared Buckalew, for some shifty shit he was doing at night and declined to explain. The Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device was then “accidentally” brought along by Decanus Picto during The Great Migration of 2007 when, following The Shadow, BZ’s offices relocated to Chateau Clintonville in Columbus, Ohio.
The Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device worked for BZ for three years in various capacities including hand truck, fake UFO, and Reverend of the First Church of Biaveh before joining The Biaviians, in which group he was the only natural citizen of Biaveh.
The Biaviian Anti-Gravity Device had no gender, and therefore never married or procreated. And as the only Electronic-American in the almost entirely organic population that comprises BZ’s corporate culture, it had trouble making friends. It therefore was survived by no one except Decanus Picto, whose last words to the device were, “Jog on, you useless fuck.” And jog on it did. As per its suicide note, there will be no funeral. In lieu of flowers, please buy a t-shirt, download Decanus’s album Long Tokes at the Gravity Well, and/or
directly to Decanus Picto to help cover the funeral costs. We here at Bluezer0 are acting really solemn, and will pretend to mourn the passing of this lonely, unloved device.
