. 
Can't let go of the DQ. But first, the agony associated with covering your ass corporately returns to haunt once again. This time it's relegated to story fodder instead of a MDMA worthy trauma. I'm late for work, can't make a good telephone connection, break out the haldol. Only this millennium it's just another rerun dream. Prosciutto cheddar waffles with creamy tomato celery soup tips the scale into quasi-catatonia replete with Cheshire grin.
Today's equivalence is DQ=flaunting that dream. Hash tag plotflow. Or could it be harmonic convergence that it requires being noticed for to be hand picked by someone. That was covered in the epilogue AKA Flamingo Joe's. In summation, I'm the DQ who abhors drama and can't even improvise a decent sketch much like Malin & Kate in Easy.
Illusory fantasizing for the entire first half makes this second half all truth justice and the american way. The dream is to wake up tomorrow and repeat today verbatim. 3Dprinting of the entire mouth for $128.