Bronques - Last Night Party

LNPTV: ZOMBIES IN THE
DESERT v1.4
LASTNIGHTSPARTY
This book is for sale at http://leanpub.com/lnptv
This version was published on 2017-10-11
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© 2017 LASTNIGHTSPARTY
Mellie
1987 - 2005
*
The female voices in this book are compiled from
the past year of post-photoshoot interviews /
therapy sessions with my models. The EE3 voices
were compiled from the past year of corporate
dinners with start-up ceos, marketers and event
promoters seeking my services. This is still a work
of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or
dead is purely coincidental. Except ‘The Bro’
character. There’s one of him in every office.
Contents
CHARACTERS 1
PROLOGUE 3
CARTRIDGE I. THE NFB 4
The Girl With No Tattoos 5
They Try To Bring You Back In 15
Even Hot Girls Get The Blues 21
The Arthur Lipsett Travel Award 31
The Cowboy 40
When The Winners Are The Losers 49

CONTENTS
CARTRIDGE II. TWIG! 56

CHARACTERS
THE NFB, The National Film Board Of Canada
BQS80, A.I.
EVE JOLICOEUR, NFB, Producer
DIANE CHRISTIAN, NFB, Head Of Technology
HELEN GREY, NFB, Director
ESTELLA SOPHIA ROSE, Muse
TWIG!, Third Wave International Girls
MARY MARTINE, Founder Of TWIG!
THE COWBOY, Anonymous
AICHA ADA, Kidnapped Model
JESSIE, NFB, Producer
EE3, Enigma Entertainment Incorporated
THOMAS MATTHIAS, EE3 CEO
TABATHA JANE, TWIG! New York
STEPHANIE MORGAN, TWIG! Los Angeles
ALANNA KHAN, TWIG! Vancouver
CHARACTERS 2
KATIA YAROSLAVOVNA, TWIG! Kiev

SERGE KESUKE, Farm Owner, Cab driver
MATHILDE KESUKE, Farm Owner
THE BRO, EE3 Employee
MARIA & MR. MARIA, El Coyote Owners
DEREK WISE, Soundtrack
Y2, Soundtrack
PROLOGUE
I have the best fucking Molly in my system and
tonight I can do no wrong.
Some beautiful wannabe drains me in the bath-
room. Click. Flash. I’m walking through a liq-
uid sky. A girl with fiery red hair is telling sto-
ries on Serato. A Y2 remix. Blue. Lights. Pink.
White tiles, lines. Gay. Fabulous. Happy Endings.
People are talking to the old me. The new me
is trying to remember what each of them wants
to hear. A cop– or a girl dressed like a cop–
pushes me aside. Hey motherfu… whaaat… Ohmy-
god. The first wave kicks in. Finally… The leg-
endary baaaaatch… Where’s Estella? Probably shar-
ing her anorexic body with some needy charity
case. Take from the skinny, give to the poor. The
crowd is all that is holding me up. I need water. I
need fucking waaaater. When I fall… it’s 120 fps
played at 24. Someone hovers over me. Her blur
creates a color I have never seen.
It only takes one memory to spark new life.
CARTRIDGE I. THE
NFB
The Girl With No
Tattoos
“A man arrives at a place in his life
where he realizes that his life is with-
out meaning. This is a sign that he
has some work to do with his anima.”
(Carl Jung)
“What are you doing?” she asks.

Everyone in this office is in the zone. Editing
video is our religion. In my business, either you’re
a struggling artist, or… you’re helping an artist
struggle less. Everyone is working double-time.
We’re all trying to win The Arthur Lipsett Travel
Award. The deadline is in two weeks. Last year the
winner won a road trip to California. She never
came back. Smart move. That’s what I need. They
say if you make igloos, you come to Canada. If
you make movies, you go to LA. I have no time for
small talk. This morning I had flawless transitions
for breakfast. Now I’m having footage grading
decisions for lunch. But noise-canceling mode is

failing me right now.
“Are you busy?” she asks again.
She can wait. I know you’re wondering why I’m
here now. Working 9 to 5. With polite Canadians.
And at a government job to boot?
“It’s okay. I’ll come back later…” she says breaking
me out of my tunnel vision. Wait!–
“Hey,” I mutter. Her world comes into focus.
Oh.
It’s the new girl. But I will spare you the long
description. That’s the part of books I hate the
most. She’s a ‘7’. An ‘8’ if you like tiger stripes.
My server hacking buddy thinks stretch marks are
sexy. I may have found his future wife1 .
“I’m working on my doc,” I answer.
“Oh cool. You’re a director. Well, I’m a producer.
What’s your doc about?”
1
It’s crazy. The things that some girls (and their white
boyfriends) find annoying are the same things that visual artists like
me use as inspiration. I can do a lot with very little information.
That’s what art is about, right? Making a big deal about the little
things. She’s wearing platform ankle boots. She’s got a cute Quebecois
accent. She’s got a two-day old French manicure. No visible tattoos.
God is in the details. I notice them all.
Hmmmm. Miz Producer2 huh? I don’t have a pro-

ducer, and I need one. Especially when I win this
award. But she’s a newbie.
“It’s about… A flood.”
“Wait! The Chicoutimi flood? You were the one
assigned that one? A-ma-zing!”
“Floods excite you?”
She can’t be serious.
“‘Chicoutimi is my hometown,” she says. “I’m al-
ways excited for any light to be shined on it. Even
if it’s the 5000k light of a documentary camera.
Chico is underrated. And beautiful. I have amazing
footage you can use if you want… You know, extra
B-roll… Before and after shots… Or whatever…”
“For real?”
“Yeah,” she says.
2
I wanted to learn more about Montreal when I got here, so I
watched some documentaries about the city. I found one from the 90s
about two cab drivers living in Mile-End. It’s called ‘How To Make
Love To A Negro Without Getting Tired’. The lead guy, the narrator,
refers to all his girlfriends as Miz. I thought it was funny. So that’s
what I call girls that pass through my life now. Miz Dairy Queen, Miz
Walmart Cashier, Miz Vitamin E, Miz Leo With A Scorpio Rising. But
I only do it in my head. You never know when you’re going to bump
into a feminist.
“No, I mean, you call Chicoutimi– Chico? I have

to use that in the doc. That’s cool.”
I will use her footage too. Shooting B-roll is the
most annoying part of documentary work. Doing
interviews is the gold.
Oh wait sorry, I’ve been rude.
I work for the The National Film Board Of Canada.
The NFB. I’m a white-collar professional now. I
used to be a party photographer. My life was club
kids, rock stars and models all over the world but
now… with Instagram and everything, that doesn’t
pay anymore. Not in Canada anyways. But you
know what does? Creating documentaries about
annoying bodies of water.
“My name’s Eve,” she says. “If you need a cool
soundtrack vibe for your movie…” She clicks on an
app on her computer, and an impressive sound fills
the air. “I found this earlier.”
Wow. I thought this Miz Producer ‘story arc’ was
wrapping up but not yet, not yet.
“What the hell is that? It’s amazing!”
“It’s Derek Wise. I found it on the BQS3 server.”

“Huh?” I say shaking my head at the idea of
downloading yet another new app.
“You don’t know Derek Wise? He’s a dark hip-“
“No, I know Derek Wise. But what’s the BQS
server?”
“It’s the NFB’s A.I. server. It’s where we can get
copyright-free music for our documentaries. They
didn’t show you? It’s the best part about working
here.”
I mean, maybe they showed me. The NFB shows
us a lot of stuff.
She leans over to my screen. “Oh… see? BQS79.
You’re logged in already… And now… You click
on… The soundtrack… Generator… Icon… Put in
some keywords… It can be anything… Music style,
artist, song name, whatever… Name an artist…”
“What?”
“Name an artist!”
“A$AP Rocky.”
3
The BQS79-S.A.I. server. BQS = Boolean Quantum System). An
Artificial Intelligence server developed by the Canadian military. It
does all sorts of awesome things to the data you put in it.
“Ok. Name another one. Different spectrum.”

“Debussy.”
“Ok.”
Within 5 seconds there is a new icon on my desk-
top. 584736354.mp3
“Click on it,” Miz Full Of Surprises says.
I’m amazed.
If A$AP and Debussy had a baby… that would be
it sitting on my desktop.
Debu$$y.
“This has got to be the biggest perk of working
here,” she says leaning back. “Server-based Artifi-
cial Intelligence. Right now it’s only instrumentals
but I hear the NFB bosses are beta testing the new
one already. BQS80. I’d love to get my hands on
that!”
Miz Full Of Information.
“A.I. created music is the most authentic form of
music you can get these days,” she continues. “So
many artists compromise their art these days. In-
stead of making music for the fans, they make it for
A&R people at record labels. And brands. Imagine
that. Musicians– Humans— using a stricter loga-

rithm than a computer program does. This music
created by ones and zeroes has more soul than
they do. And it’s untouched by the influence of
the corporate marketing hand. The way it should
be. Pas vrais?”
I’m still freaking out about Debu$$y.
“But don’t share these tracks with people who
don’t work here,” she says waking me out of my
daydream. “The NFB watermarks every track, and
they track your search results. Nobody wants to
lose soundtrack privileges.”
And that’s how I met Eve.
I live on an asparagus farm just outside of Mon-

treal. Glamorous right? It’s the perfect antidote to
the fake world I used to live in. Serge and Mathilde
Kesuke maintain the property. He’s a Haitian cab
driver, and she’s his nature-loving wife.
“Hi, Mathilde.”
Mathilde waves back.
“Have you won that award yet?” she asks.
“Not yet. I’ll know in two weeks.” (Or in 31 pages

for you.)
I have the same routine every night. I order food
for everyone and surf the entertainment. I always
end up in the same places: Facebook, SHOOTER(TM)
and EE34 . I only use Facebook for my online ID
of course. Even though I know, it’s spying on me.
Watch. Whatever I talk about when Facebook is
open– within a few hours, there will be a million
mentions of it on my feed.
“Dexter… Dexter… Dexter…”
You’ll see.
The SHOOTER(TM) app. Now that’s my real ad-
diction. Instagram’s founders started a new app
for linking models and photographers. But it’s not
only industry people on it. Everybody wants to
see LA girl eye candy. Duh. And the best part:
the nipple has been freed! Thank you, Instagram
dudes. You listened.
But then there’s the EE3 app. People watch it, but
everyone loathes it. Even nice Canadian folk hate
it. But of course, EE3 gets all the exclusives because
4
Enigma Entertainment mass entertainment streams on the
ww3 (live-streaming interweb ). Their most popular viewing time is
noon to 2 pm daily: the famous #culturestream.
they have money. They’re one of the three big evil

networks. The evilest of them all.
EE3 specializes in algorithmically created media.
They rely on computer calculations to craft low-
cost, click-heavy content that advertisers love. Each
new piece of content improves the formula of the
last one to be more effective. Their automated
editing systems pump out thousands of video clips
and articles a month. All about trivial topics. This
serves to induce its subscribers to consume all
sorts of crap. It’s news as entertainment, politics
as entertainment, medical breakthroughs as en-
tertainment and tragedy as entertainment. Only
the EE3 could render even it’s obituary section as
entertainment. Funny but, the least entertaining
media on EE3 is the actual entertainment. They
have a 24-hour feed called the #culturestream. I
don’t know whose culture they’re documenting
but it ain’t mine.
Look at the sort of brain mush we get greeted with
every night:
(EE3) “Gang violence is escalating in

Los Angeles. Recent incidents in the
Fairfax area have left the neighbor-
hood rattled…”
(EE3) “…pictures of my daughter…

We moved here from Miami. She’s a
good girl. She doesn’t do drugs. This
would never happen in Miami. Please
find her. We’re from Miami. Please
return my baby to me!”
Garbage.
I delete the app.
It’s the third time this month. May it be the last.
They Try To Bring
You Back In
“Zombies In The Desert!” Eve says beaming a few
days later. We’re in the same office we were the
last chapter. Engaging in the same routine. Staring
at the same editing screens.
“What’s that?”
“Coachella Halloween! Didn’t you hear? They an-
nounced it on EE3 last night.”
Fuck. I download the EE3 app again.
She’s right. And of course, EE3 is the sponsor.
FML. I have to keep this app now for updates.
Sleep-mode. I’m staring at the poster. Spice Girls
reunion? Derek Wise?
Coachella Halloween needs to be my next docu-
mentary.
“I heard you take good pictures?” Eve asks chang-
ing the subject.
Coachella Halloween would be the first festival
I’ve ever shot…
“Diane told me you’re especially good. C’est vrai?”

Eve says.
Yeah, Coachella Halloween with pretty LA girl
zombies…
“We should take pictures you and I. For real,” Eve
insists.
I pretend to work. Instead, I keep misspelling the
word ‘neighborhood’ and thinking about Coachella
Halloween.
“Sexy pictures,” she says not letting it go.
Coach–
“Eve. It’s not gonna happen. We work together.”
“People are chill here. Don’t worry. Seriously.
Besides, it’s for my friend’s art project.”
“Eve… please…”
I don’t take pictures anymore. Especially sexy ones.
I don’t do anything that reminds me of Estella.
Eve moves her right shoulder inward and leans
towards me trying to create all the cleavage she
can with her B cups. “You’ll see. You’re gonna take
pictures of me one day,” she says. “You just don’t
know it yet.” I have no response.
“Wow. Are you gay?”

“Work!” Diane says walking by. Diane is our boss.
Diane is tall from this angle.
“Diane! Wait!” I shriek. I didn’t mean to shriek. “I
wanted to tell you about this problem I’ve been
having. I can’t log out of the BQS server.”
“I’ll send one of the techs,” Diane says walking
away revealing Helen staring at me. Helen shakes
her head and looks back at her screen. Yeah, fuck
you too. Helen Grey is a babe. She’s a babe with
resting bitch-face, but still a babe. She’s also one
of the NFB’s star directors. My competition. Her
film ‘Prairie Home’ came in second last year. She
thinks she’s winning this year. She’s not. My flood
documentary will be better than whatever she’s
working on.
All that photography talk today has me thinking

about Estella. I haven’t taken one photograph since
I’ve been in Canada. It’s all video now. After
dinner with Serge and Mathilde, I get in “camera
mode” for old times sake. I shoot random stuff
around the house: kitchen appliances, cereal boxes,
surfaces. If you can make boring things look good

in photos then interesting things will look sublime.
“I used to take pictures too,” Serge says startling
me. He takes a picture of me. I’m blinded by the
flash.
“Sorry about that,” he says laughing. Then he puts
his mint condition Contax T3 on the table right
next to me. “You can put it to good use, I’m sure.”
“Wow. Thank you, Serge,” I say, “but I don’t take
pictures anymore. I was fooling around tonight.”
“Once a photographer. Always a photographer.”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me… or
himself.
“Serge, can I show you something?” I set up to
show him the rough cut of my doc. “What do you
think of this?” I play it for him.
“Great visuals,” he says when it’s over, “but what
is it about?”
I explain it to him. I didn’t realize I felt so much
passion about this shitty flood. When I’m done,
he says: “You should record everything you just
expained and put it on top of the visuals.”
He was right. I needed narration.
“And also,” he continued, “that small section with

the woman you interviewed was great. You should
make the whole documentary about her. We’ve all
seen floods before. Her story was touching.”
(EE3) “The woman’s name is Aisha

Ada,” says the voice-over. “Aisha is a
20-year-old glamour model from Mi-
ami. She was last seen at an open call
model casting. The police are inves-
tigating. The name of her agency is
being withheld for the time being. No
new evidence has surfaced. There are
no suspects yet. We are following the
story.”
(CNN) “Joining us tonight is Mary

Martine, head of the TWIG! modeling
agency.”
(CNN) (inset of girl with horn-rimmed

glasses) “We’re not models. We’re hack-
ers. We’re re-programming society’s
patriarchal code hoping to make it do
something new. People aren’t paying
enough attention to the details of the
Aisha story. This sort of thing hap-

pens every day to women…”
Even Hot Girls Get
The Blues
Are we friends?
You should know something.
I film everything. It’s a disease. Some people say
that I should stop working all the time and have a
little fun. I think I’m having more fun than anyone
else.
“It reminds me of that story I read about Godard5
once,” Eve says as we’re eating lunch in The NFB
cafeteria. We’re homies now. She’s telling me one
of her million director anecdotes. “One day on
set Godard was shooting an amazing ‘once in
a life time’ performance take with Bardot. The
cameraman ran out of film, so the guy yelled “Cut!
Cut!”. Godard turned to him and asked him what
the fuck he was doing. Why was he yelling ‘Cut’?
He’s not the fucking director! The cameraman told
him that he had run out of film. Godard glared at
5
Jean-Luc Godard, the French new wave director that changed
cinema forever.
him and said ‘Don’t you know that cinema is also

SOUND?’”
Eve is like the Lucius Fox of producers. She’s the
only one at The NFB who knows who Y2 is. Or
what Ableton is. That’s why I agreed to see Derek
Wise with her tonight. She even introduced me to
him after the show.
“I love your music.”
“Say less.”
“Can I use one of your songs for one of my docu-
mentaries?”
“Say less.”
“Thank you, bro.”
“Say less.”
Eve drives me home.
“Oh cool. You live on a farm like Harrison Ford,”
she says as we arrive. I feel like it’s going to be one
of those long conversations in the car moments.
“Yeah, except I don’t get to leave every few weeks
to shoot a blockbuster in exotic locations like he
does.”
“I’ve never had that itch to travel like you do.”
“As a New Yorker, it’s in my blood,” I explain. “NYC

has so many cultures it makes you want to see the
source of it all firsthand.”
“Well, you made it here,” Eve says laughing. “I
know it’s not as glamorous as Paris or South Amer-
ica or whatever, but Montreal has culture too.”
“Montreal could be a perfect place to come back to,
I guess. But to ‘come back to’ a place you have to
leave it. Preferably often.”
“I guess you’re right,” Eve says. “But I suppose I’m
still discovering things right in my own backyard.”
Talking about traveling reminds me of Estella. It
was our dream to go to LA together.
“I should go,” I say breaking the silence.
“Hey,” Eve says, taking out her phone. “Before you
go can you take a quick picture of me? I wanna
remember tonight. It was so fun. And I’m wearing
a great outfit.”
Yes, she’s wearing a sick canary yellow jumper
with big pink buttons down the front. She unbut-
tons it halfway. I take a photo.
Then she nonchalantly takes out her tits and poses
again.
“What are you doing?” I ask laughing and shocked.

“Just take it… Take the picture…”
I get a flash of Estella. She used to say the same
thing. The same way.
“What the hell? This is weird.”
“What’s wrong with you prude?” she says embar-
rassed. “Why are you so scared of sexy photos?”
She puts her tits back into her jumper.
“Well, I don’t know. Why are YOU so obsessed
with taking sexy photos?”
“I know you’ve seen tits before. What’s the prob-
lem? It’s for my friend’s project. I told you.”
“Your friend does porn?”
“No, idiot. She’s an artist.”
“I’m an idiot because I didn’t know that your friend
wasn’t a pornographer? You’re the one taking out
your tits.”
“It’s for an art installation she’s doing called ‘The
Three Gazes’, and I agreed to be a part of it. You
wouldn’t understand.”
“So why doesn’t she take your photo?”
“She did already. But I also need to get a guy’s point

of view. That’s part of her whole project. Don’t ask
me. I’m not a model… I just agreed to do it as a way
of coping with my BD. Forget it.”
“What’s BD?”
“Body dysmorphia. I used to be a fat kid,”
We sit in silence.
Every photoshoot I ever did with Estella ended up
as a therapy session. She used to call me Dr. Phil.
It feels like that right now. But without the photo
shoot part.
Fuck.
Please don’t cry.
“I knew a girl in New York,” I say hoping to diffuse
the soap opera I find myself in. “I think she had
body dysmorphia too.”
A lie.
“Was she like your girlfriend or something?” Eve
asks.
“It was complicated.”
Another lie. Things are never as complicated as we
make it out to be. We keep things to ourselves so
that other people can’t simplify them so easily.
“Or maybe it was another classic tale of boy meets

girl, boy takes a million pictures of girl,” I explain.
“She was my muse.”
“Where is she?”
“Still in New York.”
“Is she going to come and visit you in Montreal?”
“Like I said. It’s complicated.”
But that’s not enough for Eve. She wants me to
spill the beans.
“The last time we partied together, she OD’d,” I
say. “Right there in the club. And I practically had
a drug documentary of her on my camera and…
the cops confiscated it. Two days later the club got
shut-down…”
“She… died?” Eve gasps.
“No no,” I reassure her, “but it was close. We
didn’t even do that many drugs. But at that point,
she was so skinny you know? Her body couldn’t
handle anything. She… She definitely had that
body dysmorphia thing. Always obsessed with her
weight… she thought her hips were too wide… But
she was perfect. Even when they took her away
on the gurney, she looked beautiful. I mean, who
looks beautiful on a gurney? I’ve never met anyone

as photogenic as her. Didn’t matter though. She
still hated herself… And after that night she hated
me too. Her parents turned her against me. She
blamed me for everything.”
“Were you guys in love?”
“She didn’t love anything but the camera. That’s
why we worked so well together. We both thought
relationships were bullshit.”
“That’s tragic. You don’t believe in love? That’s so
crazy!”
“There’s more important things in life than love.”
“Like what?”
“Creating art. Creating a body of work that brings
society forward.”
“Can’t you have both? Love and art?”
“Only if you want mediocre versions of both. I only
have space in my brain for one relationship.”
“What’s going to inspire your art if it isn’t love?
You just haven’t found the right person yet.”
“No. It’s the opposite. Artists kill their inspiration
to sing about the grief.” 6
6
From ‘The Fly’, U2.
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?

You’re still wrong though,” Eve says smiling. She’s
done debating. She wants to gossip. “Why would
you move here from New York City? That’s the
place to be for art.”
“I had to leave New York City. I went from taking
photos at all the hottest parties to blacklisted. I
couldn’t get in anywhere with my camera. That
club getting shut down destroyed my career. My
website, lastnightsparty, died a quick death.”
“Whaaaaaat? Lastnightsparty? That’s you?” Eve
yells.
“You know it?”
“Of course I know lastnightsparty! Those pictures
were my source of escape during college. Estella?
That’s who you mean? You took those pictures
of Estella. Oh man. I always wanted to go to
those cool looking parties in New York. And get
photographed like that!”
“How do you know Estella?”
“Oh my god, what? I stole fashion ideas from your
website all the time. Estella was my muse. That’s
crazy. Wow. I always wondered what happened
to lastnightsparty. And why it was dormant for so
long. I just figured somebody died.”

“Yeah. Well, someone almost did. That’s why I
retired my camera and started shooting video.
No one in the scene wanted that either. So I did
what every self-respecting American does when
confronted with adversity: I moved to Canada.”
Eve smiles.
“Let me show you something,” I say.
We go inside, and I show her the Contax T3 Serge
had given me.
“Wow. A T3.”
“Let me teach you how to take the perfect selfie.
From now on you’ll never have to depend on
anyone for photos,” I say. “I got drunk with Cindy
Sherman one night. She showed me some of her
secrets… Walk around until you find the perfect
light… Put the camera at an angle higher than
your face and tilt your head to the side and… Chin
down… Relax your lips… Think of someone you
admire…”
Eve takes several photos. I stop talking. She’s in the
zone. Then the camera runs out of film.
My turn.
“Stand against the wall,” I say to Eve.

She obeys. And instinctively turns her head 45
degrees.
“Part your lips.”
She does.
“Wait… There’s way too much yellow.”
The Arthur Lipsett
Travel Award
“Gather round people. Gather round,” says Diane
in the office at 10:30 am. A crowd of 12 creatives
are gathered.
“As you know, we are awarding The NFB’s Arthur
Lipsett Travel Award at the end of the week. May
the best director win. But this year I’ve decided to
stir the pot a little bit with some bonus points. If
you want to suck up to one of the judges… Me…
You can help The NFB get the final interview for
the “The Fourth Network”. For those of you in the
dark from tunnel vision, this is the documentary
that we’re co-producing with the BBC. It’s a prior-
ity for us. We need an interview with LNPTV, the
new streaming network out of New York. They are
creating some cool creative content, but apparently
they don’t do interviews.”
“How do you make a documentary about a group
that doesn’t want to be documented?” Jessie asks
throwing Helen a look. Jessie is Helen’s producer.
Not much of a babe, but still the enemy.

“Yes,” Diane says with a heavy breath, “the last-
nightsparty network is elusive. That’s why this
award and award money may I remind you…
hangs in the balance. We went through this with
Banksy 8 years ago. Maybe he wore his little mask
thingy, but we got the interview.”
Wait.
The lastnightsparty network? These people stole
the name of my old website? You have to be kid-
ding me! And now the NFB and the BBC are doing
a joint documentary that may spotlight those rip-
off artists? Fuck that! This is crazy. I want to say
something but I can’t. I can’t let my co-workers
know about my blacklisted past.
“They’re based in New York. Is there a travel
budget?” Jessie interjects.
“Nice try Jessie. No, there’s no travel budget. Inge-
nuity people! Figure it out. LNPTV is revolutioniz-
ing the online video space. Let’s be the first ones
to get the interview.”
“What if nobody gets the interview?” It’s Jessie
again.
“Then nobody gets in my good graces,” Diane
answers and walks back into her office.

The meeting’s over.
“Wow oh wow. You win.” Eve says coming up
behind me. “The lastnightsparty network? Those
guys, whoever they are, owe you an interview
for stealing your name. I’m sure they’d do any-
thing for a tete-a-tete with the original Mr. Last-
nightsparty.”
“I’m not interviewing those motherfuckers,” I say
lowering my voice, hoping Eve does the same.
“Huh? Why not? You don’t want to win the Lipsett
award now? What happened to your California
dreaming?”
“Those motherfuckers stole my name. I want to
SUE those bastards.”
“Dude. Are you serious? They’re fringe under-
ground artists that the BBC/NFB want to feature so
that they look cool to the big boys like EE3. LNPTV
are kids having fun. I didn’t even know their name
was inspired by lastnightsparty. You can’t sue an
acronym. They don’t take pictures. They do video
montages. I thought you were leaving your past
behind? What’s your problem?”
“Why are you defending them? And how come
you know so much about LNPTV?”

“‘Cause I subscribe to their channel. It’s amazing.
That’s how I found out about Derek Wise. That’s
how I discover a lot of shit.”
“Wait. You subscribe to LNPTV?”
“Duh. Where have you been? You should join the
rest of us on the internets.”
“Ok, ok. Let them have the name. But I’m still not
chasing them for an interview. I can win the award
without bonus points.”
“Listen stupid. Every documentary filmmaker uses
all their advantages to get what they deserve.
You’re LNPTV’s fucking hero. Get the questions
ready. I’ll get an interview. We’ll keep your past
out of it. We can’t let Helen and Jessie win that
award!”
Well, when you put it like that.
“Helen’s gonna hate me though,” I say.
“Who cares if she hates you?”
“I don’t know… I feel like I’m cheating.”
“You’re such a typical… guy.”
“What does THAT mean?”
“You don’t want her to hate you because she’s

pretty.”
“That ridiculous.” It was. Sort of.
“Who cares if she hates you? You won’t even be
here to feel her haterade. If you win the Lipsett
award we’ll be traveling all over the world, re-
member?”
We’ll be traveling?
“Besides, I’m sure she hates your guts already.”
“Whyyyy? Why would she hate my guts? She
doesn’t even know me. Did she say something
about me?”
“You’re a boy. She’s a feminist. The kind that hates
‘male scum’ like you. Her words. For all I know she
probably even hates her boyfriend.”
“Oh.”
Helen has a boyfriend.
“Which reminds me… Don’t you only have eyes
for me? After last night I mean?” Eve laughs. I
shoot her a look. “I’m kidding. Jeez. Don’t worry.
I’m not gonna get weird on you.” She turns and
walks away.
I go back to editing. Is my flood documentary good

enough? I have the “truck delivering the sandbags
section” on loop.
Eve is back.
“But seriously,” I tell her, “you can’t tell anyone
about my old website,”
“No one here is cool enough to follow underground
party photography websites. Look around you.
We’re working with people who’s bedtime has
never been later than 10 pm.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“By the way… I know that you’re still hung up
on Estella.” she says. “I know that last night was
just another photo shoot for you. But for me it was
everything.”
“You haven’t even seen the photos yet!” The 35mm
rolls were still getting developed. And the digital
ones were… marinating.
“It’s not about the pictures. I just like how… I felt
this morning. I haven’t woken up feeling good
about my body for a long, long time. You have
talent boy.”
Eve turns to face me.
“You know… I’m probably going to be at The NFB

for the rest of my life. I’ll probably get married to
a producer from Quebec City… have a few kids…
and get drunk with my girlfriends on special holi-
days until I die. But you… if by this time next year
you’re still making government documentaries for
the NFB, I’ll kill you. That’s not a threat. That’s a
fact. I’ll fucking kill you.”
“What are you talking about Eve?” I ask laughing.
She’s talking with a Boston accent now.
“It’s just that tomorrow I’m gonna wake up… and
I’ll be 40,” Eve says, now resting her face on her
hand, “and I’ll still be doing this NFB shit. And
that’s all right. That’s my destiny. But you… You’re
sitting on a winning lottery ticket. You have talent.
So many people here would do anything to have
what you’ve got. It’d be an insult to all of us if you
didn’t use it.”
“Ohhhh… Good Will Hunting?” I finally get it.
“Yeah…” We’re both laughing. “But I still mean it
though.”
Eve doesn’t even realize that there’s not one ounce
of me that desires to stay in Canada. She doesn’t
understand that the moment I get to California I’m
never coming back here again. I’m a filmmaker. LA
is where I have to be.
I subscribe to LNPTV. I have to see what all the

fuss is about. I get my subscription confirmation
via teletext7 .
How cute. This app caters to teenagers.
When I log in, I’m surprised to see that it’s not only
party videos. LNPTV has protest footage, a news
section and a turnstile video section called video-
zines. I click on VZ#89. It’s part-documentary,
part-motivational and… part-debauchery?
There’s also a video feature about that model who
disappeared. I click on it.
(LNPTV) “Yes. This is the girl we

saw,”
A woman called Maria says holding

a picture of Aisha. A lowered third
video title says that Maria is the owner
7
Multi-media meme-text. This form of communication using a
personal PIN has replaced texting and emojis. It is the new standard
among teens.
of El Coyote restaurant on Beverly.

Her husband is standing next to her.
(LNPTV) Maria: “We noticed her right

away because we had never seen her
before. We know all the neighbor-
hood kids. But she was new. They
were all sitting in the corner over
there. Taking selfies. All very polite.
Just being kids, you know? Dressed in
their black uniforms…”
(LNPTV) Mr. Maria: “I’m hoping this

is a Halloween prank. They are de-
voted performance artists. Those damn
kids. Always scaring their parents in
the name of social experiments and
art.”
I switch to CNN. They’re still reporting the same

old kidnap story. I switch to FOX. Same thing.
EE3. Same damn thing. Not one of the Big Three
Networks are reporting this El Coyote owners
interview? But why?
The Cowboy
“You have the interview tonight,” Eve whispers
sitting down at her desk. Three days had passed
since Diane’s challenge.
“What? Are you serious? How the fuck did you do
that so fast?” I ask.
“I have my ways. Aren’t I the best producer? I also
did some research for you. Check out this article
by Daniel M Kimmel: The Fourth Network.”
(KIMMEL) “The market place can’t

support a FOURTH television network.
That’s how streaming works. It’s been
‘The Big Three’ forever: CNN, FOX
and EE3. This is the natural order of
things. The audience is already over-
whelmed. Public television, indepen-
dent stations, cable and fringe stream-
ing channels haven’t even broken through.
An underground station based in New
York City with video-zines isn’t likely
to disturb the balance.”
The Cowboy 41
“But LNPTV is in New York. How did you…?”

“They have a Montreal guy. He’s called ’The Cow-
boy’. You have to meet him at The River at 8:15
tonight. I’ll take you there.”
“The Cowboy? The River? What river?”
“They said you would know.”
Oh. The River.
Eve and I are at The River at 8:10. It’s only half

a mile from Serge and Mathilde’s farm. Everyone
here calls it that… just… The River. The Indians
say that re-naming the river would rob it of its
mystical properties. So no one ever did.
At 8:15 a light from one of the cottages flickers.
A figure comes out of the darkness. It’s a… girl.
She’s wearing a plaid dress and a cowboy hat.
Her face hides in the shadow of the hat’s brim.
She’s holding a black box with an embossed little
diamond crystal on top. I guess she’s filming this
interview. I do the same.
“Howdy,” she says.
The Cowboy 42
“Howdy to you,” Eve answers intrigued.

“Beautiful evening.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Did you take this?” The cowboy shows me a
picture. It’s one of the photos I took of Eve the
other day. Wow. There is a majesty and a mystery
to the still image that video will never possess.
That’s how Eve got us the interview.
“Yeah. I took that photo.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’re big fans. What
would you like to know about LNPTV?”
“Uh… Well… Why did you steal my name?”
“Okay. Let’s jump right into it then,” The Cowboy
(who’s a cowgirl) says laughing. “Well… LNPTV
is inspired by classic editorial photography that
shows the truth. But our art uses video, the most
expedient format of today. Our acronym is a trib-
ute to our influences. Like you. You took your
website’s name, lastnightsparty, from a Lou Reed
song in Warhol’s film Chelsea Girls. We continue
the tradition.”
How did they know that?
The Cowboy 43
“We are descendants of the New York underground,”

she finishes.
“Ok, ok… what is LNPTV?”
“LNPTV is the ‘Anonymous’ of nightlife. We want
to restore authenticity to visual programming.”
“Is it supposed to be a party video channel? Is it
news? I saw something the other day…”
“The big three news channels today treat every-
thing as entertainment. Their programming is a
tool to put the audience in a ready state for main-
stream consumerism. LNPTV started off as an en-
tertainment channel. But now we treat everything
as political.
“How are you funding this? Who’s behind it?”
“You are.”
“I am?”
“Yes. And everyone else that subscribes. Our au-
dience wants a front row seat to things that exist
outside the mainstream. The Downtown 300 cre-
ates everything.”
“’The Downtown 300’?”
“Every major city has a scene of about 300 people
that keep the underground alive. They are the ones
The Cowboy 44
that direct where music goes. And where fashion

goes. And more recently where politics go. The
individuals may drift in and out as generations
evolve. But there is always a core group of icon-
oclasts that never disappear.”
“How do you get your footage? You seem to have
stuff that no other networks have.”
“All the networks have the same footage. They just
don’t show it to you. We hack into entertainment
companies’ smart servers. The Sympathetic A.I.
servers hand over everything unused through the
filters. You can say that we are one of the benefi-
ciaries of the Purge Law.”
“Sympathetic A.I.? Purge Law?”
“Sympathetic A.I. are government servers with
self-editing artificial intelligence. This artificial in-
telligence has the ability to discern which data it
rejects and which data it keeps. It’s all done accord-
ing to brand specific filters. This ability to ‘forget’
is what gives the sympathetic A.I. the impression
of having ‘taste’. Corporations are now using this
technology for faster turnarounds of video con-
tent. LNPTV has developed counter-technology
to intercept all the purged data. Everything that
doesn’t pass the brand filters comes to us. One
The Cowboy 45
corporation’s garbage is another one’s treasure.

We apply reprocess the footage and release the
result as video-zines.”
“But how did these companies get a hold of this
government technology?”
“‘Major corporations are just a secret arm of gov-
ernment that isn’t held accountable by democ-
racy.”
“But why wouldn’t companies just keep the data.”
“With the advent of sympathetic A.I., it was clear
that corporations and everyday citizens would be
creating millions of petabytes of useless data. The
UN passed a pro-active resolution to force govern-
ments to prevent server bloating. The Purge Law
is to protect server farms like Amazon and Google
from becoming devalued. All businesses have data
allotments now. They use their brand responsible
filters to purge data they don’t need.”
“How did you guys start?” Eve asks keeping me on
track.
“Well,” The Cowboy laughs, “we began by hacking
surveillance camera footage. We created visual
remixes of that content for our subscribers. Now
we mostly use corporate and government server
The Cowboy 46
purges. We make art out of society’s collective

anxiety.”
“Why do this interview now? You’ve been so se-
cret, so underground… so far,” Eve asks sticking to
our NFB script.
“People needs a source of media not tied to the
state. Otherwise, we’ll all become manipulated
drones. LNPTV needs subscribers. We’re hoping
this NFB/BBC documentary will help. We thought
you might be sympathetic to our cause,” The Cow-
boy says looking at me, “having started lastnightsparty
and all. We respect your filter.”
“Thank you,” I say.
But I have so many more questions that aren’t in
our script.
“What about the dark web terrorism happening in
LA? What’s the truth behind that?” I ask trying to
squeeze more in.
“We will be in touch again.”
“What? No.”
“No, we understand,” Eve interjects. “Thank you
for this incredible interview.”
“Of course. And to part…” The Cowboy adds, “you
The Cowboy 47
both have access to the BQS server at The NFB

right?”
“Yeah, we do.”
“Don’t log out. Goodnight.” She disappears.
It’s 8:27 when a light from one of the cottages
flickers again.
(CNN) “Aicha Ada’s mother confirmed

that she had been home since this
morning. Aicha’s been questioned by
the police about her disappearance.
No official statements have been re-
leased yet. Her Instagram account…”
(EE3) “It went from a few thousand

followers to over 150 thousand fol-
lowers in three days. People on social
media are calling the whole thing is a
hoax or a publicity stunt.”
(FOX) “No official statements have

been released yet. Social media pun-
dits are calling it a hoax. Aicha’s mother…”
The Cowboy 48
(LNPTV) “A tremendous challenge for

us is this culture of disbelief. Women
are victims of social violence in ways
that most men would never believe.”
When The Winners
Are The Losers
I won the Arthur Lipsett Award.
“Some people see the glass as half

full. Some people see the glass as half
empty. But for the people of Chico,
the glass is overflowing…”
That’s the intro to the flood documentary I submit-

ted. I took Serge’s advice and added the narration.
The movie’s main visual anchor is a close-up of a
woman’s face telling her heartfelt story. I super-
imposed double exposure flood footage. The NFB
loves it.
And Helen quit on the spot.
“I’m not losing to that…” she says storming out.
And now I’m in Diane’s office about to collect my
reward: the gift of travel.
“Have you heard of ‘Project: Dogma 17’?” Diane
says.
“Nope.”
“Okay. Good. That was a trick question. It’s actu-
ally supposed to be secret. I’m making sure it still
is. Did you sign the NDA? Ok, good. Anyways…
Dogma 17 is our experimental division at The NFB.
Winning the Lipsett Award gives you access to our
most advanced BQS server. The BQS80.”
Eve was right. The beta exists. I’m like a new
president learning all the secrets after taking his
oath of office.
“What’s the difference between this new server
and the one we’ve been using for soundtracks?”
“The BQS80 server can manipulate video. It takes
your raw footage and self-edits the material. You
get a neat little ‘pret-a-regarder’ media package
based on our filters.”
“Wow. Ok.”
“The Canadian military developed it last year.
They’ve beta testing the editing technology with
all Canadian government departments.” Diane starts
reading from the little manual: “The BQS80 is us-
ing the most advanced neuralogical network avail-
able to artificial intelligence to date.” “It has the
ability to collect, process and reject information
based on a continuously modifying interpretation

of the data it receives… Blah blah blah… creating
the first A.I. with taste’.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yes. I agree. It’s pretty groundbreaking,” Diane
says nodding. “The NFB will beta-test the technol-
ogy internally. But in less than two years they’ll
release a version of the app to the general public.
Everyone will be able to act as a field reporter and
help us gather the best footage from all around the
world.”
“But won’t that make directors obsolete?”
“Maybe by it’s old definition… But there will al-
ways be a job for those who can get the in-
terviews,” Diane explains. “Research might be a
click away with Google… and stock footage might
be a click away with YouTube Black’8 … But the
real challenge has always been getting the elusive
interviews. Especially now. No one wants to go
on record anymore. Not after the Denny Case last
year. The directors that get the interviews are as
valuable as Ventrone Chronicles gold. Helen had
that talent. Bless her competitive heart. But so do
8
A paid section of YouTube with royalty-free and premium
footage of every video ever created.
you. Your interviews and footage filtered through

the Dogma 179 filters will be magic.”
“What are those based on? I hope they’re not lame.”
“Not at all. It’s the NFB secret sauce. All the things
that would make Arthur Lipsett proud. Truth. Au-
thenticity. Experimentation. As they would say in
‘Paris Is Burning’… realness.”
“Oh good. That’s amazing.”
“It is. But you’ll need a producer though.”
I didn’t need to think about that one.
“That’s easy. Eve.”
“Hmmm, no. I know you guys are friends, but
I have to partner you with Jessie. She has the
9
The DOGMA 17 Rules. 10 Simple Filmmaking Rules. Inspired
by Danish cinema. 1. Make movies with strangers you meet. 2.
Use props and locations that are readily available. 3. Record and
mix your epic cinematic beats. Or commission soundtracks from
unknown artists (including obscure re-makes). 4. Use cameras that
you can take everywhere (iPhone, DSLR with no attachments). 5.
Embrace “handheld camera technique”. 6. Reveal complicated story
points (murders, disasters) with talking heads or by showing just the
aftermath. 7. Only do rehearsals before you shoot. Encourage people
to improvise. 8. Have your script everywhere you go. Be ready to
shoot even in awkward moments. 9. Editing is poetry. Edit quickly.
10. Write a film “confession” when you’re done. Tell the story of what
went well or badly. Make it the last still of your movie.
experience you’ll need for Dogma 17. And now

that Helen’s gone, she’s available…”
Jessie? I can’t work with Jessie. Eve will kill me.
”… and if you guys ever start traveling, you’ll
need Jessie’s experience. Eve is new. Her only
travel experience is going to Toronto for a Weeknd
concert.”
Wait.
Back up.
If?
Iiiiiiffffff?
“I thought winning the Arthur Lipsett TRAVEL
award meant that I would be traveling right away?”
“Usually, yes. But we don’t have funding yet. You’re
first in line though. But we need to attract the right
client sponsor first.”
Sponsor? This sucks. How will I get to ‘Zombies’
now?
“How long does getting a sponsor take?” I asked
panicked.
“Sometimes it takes a few weeks. Sometimes a few
months. It depends. DOGMA 17 is a hard sell to
the people with mucho bucks.”
Months? I don’t have months. I can’t believe this.

The thought of staying in Montreal on Serge and
Mathilde’s farm for the whole winter is depressing.
And I can’t miss Coachella Halloween.
“But at least you’ll have access to the most ad-
vanced video A.I. on the planet to help you edit
your next batch of work, right?” Diane knows not
to say anymore. She shuffles some papers and
pretends to work.
Later that night I meet up with Eve at the Mexican

place on St. Denis. She doesn’t even care about not
being my producer for the Dogma 17 project. She’s
excited about something else.
“My friend Martine wants to meet you tomorrow!”
she says between bites of chips and salsa. “She
loves the pictures you took of me.”
“Oh, cool.” I say trying to hide my depression. I
may be suicidal.
“No no, you don’t understand. Martine wants to
hire you to shoot her new project. It’ll be extra cash
for you. Money! And you’ll be doing something
cool.”
“Shoot photos Eve? I don’t know…”

“Photos and video! She’s coming to Montreal with
her art collective tomorrow to scout talent. They
all want to meet you. They’re amazing. They call
themselves the Third Wave International Girls.
TWIG! for short. You’re gonna freak out when you
meet these girls. They used to be models. They’re
so hot. And so fucking crazy!”
We all focus on different things when people talk.
Some might zero in on the word ‘hot’. While
others might focus on the word ‘crazy’. And maybe
others… ‘art collective’. But me? I only heard one
word in that sentence: ‘international’. ‘Cause ‘in-
ternational’ implies travel. These TWIG! girls might
be my one-way ticket to ‘Zombies In The Desert’.
The Mariachi band starts playing a Mexican ver-
sion of the O.C. theme song ‘California’. The cam-
era pans out.
RELEASE DATE: DECEMBER 1, 2017.
(Chapter 1 - Chapter 27)
Email feedback, typos or ideas to:
amanda@lastnightsparty.com
CARTRIDGE II.
TWIG!

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LNPTV: ZOMBIES IN THE

This version was published on 2017-10-11

This is a Leanpub book. Leanpub empowers

CARTRIDGE I. THE NFB 4

The Girl With No Tattoos 5

They Try To Bring You Back In 15

Even Hot Girls Get The Blues 21

The Arthur Lipsett Travel Award 31

When The Winners Are The Losers 49

CARTRIDGE II. TWIG! 56

KATIA YAROSLAVOVNA, TWIG! Kiev

“What are you doing?” she asks.

decisions for lunch. But noise-canceling mode is

Hmmmm. Miz Producer2 huh? I don’t have a pro-

“No, I mean, you call Chicoutimi– Chico? I have

“It’s Derek Wise. I found it on the BQS3 server.”

“Ok. Name another one. Different spectrum.”

that. Musicians– Humans— using a stricter loga-

I live on an asparagus farm just outside of Mon-

“Not yet. I’ll know in two weeks.” (Or in 31 pages

they have money. They’re one of the three big evil

(EE3) “Gang violence is escalating in

(EE3) “…pictures of my daughter…

“Diane told me you’re especially good. C’est vrai?”

“Wow. Are you gay?”

All that photography talk today has me thinking

surfaces. If you can make boring things look good

“And also,” he continued, “that small section with

(EE3) “The woman’s name is Aisha

(CNN) “Joining us tonight is Mary

(CNN) (inset of girl with horn-rimmed

Aisha story. This sort of thing hap-

him and said ‘Don’t you know that cinema is also

“As a New Yorker, it’s in my blood,” I explain. “NYC

“What are you doing?” I ask laughing and shocked.

“She did already. But I also need to get a guy’s point

“Or maybe it was another classic tale of boy meets

looks beautiful on a gurney? I’ve never met anyone

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?

long. I just figured somebody died.”

“Stand against the wall,” I say to Eve.

Not much of a babe, but still the enemy.

answers and walks back into her office.

you know so much about LNPTV?”

“You don’t want her to hate you because she’s

I go back to editing. Is my flood documentary good

“You know… I’m probably going to be at The NFB

is where I have to be.

I subscribe to LNPTV. I have to see what all the

(LNPTV) “Yes. This is the girl we

A woman called Maria says holding

of El Coyote restaurant on Beverly.

(LNPTV) Maria: “We noticed her right

(LNPTV) Mr. Maria: “I’m hoping this

I switch to CNN. They’re still reporting the same

(KIMMEL) “The market place can’t

“But LNPTV is in New York. How did you…?”

Eve and I are at The River at 8:10. It’s only half

“Howdy to you,” Eve answers intrigued.

“We are descendants of the New York underground,”

that direct where music goes. And where fashion

corporation’s garbage is another one’s treasure.

purges. We make art out of society’s collective

both have access to the BQS server at The NFB