"Denham's Dentrifice oh yeahhh!!" The commercial ringed in his fire-scorched ears. Montag wanted to yell at the subway speaker, tell it "Shut up!!". He thought to himself, "I should just do it," as a certified Individuality and Conformity TM citizen, it would have been on character.
The subway train stopped. The crowd of people stood up. Montag noticed, for maybe the first time ever, that they all looked the same. Same hair, same eyes, same lovable, goofy mug:
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(an: this is the guy from the edgenuity mental health videos lol) Montag ran away from the train, being careful not to drop any of the 15 books that were currently hiding in his jacket pockets. Aimless in his life now, he didn't know what way to go. Back home, to the cold comfort of Mildred's unmoving expression, and the fading memory of Clarisse...? Or maybe?
He remembered about a year ago, he was at the park playground, scouting out his next crush after Clarisse (CLONTAG) didn't work out. And this old man who was conveniently hiding his pants behind a newspaper made conversation with him. "Name's Faber," the man said, never once breaking eye contact. Montag wondered, "Whaddup with dat?!" "If you ever need any book recommendations, or anything really, you know where to find me" said the man, slipping him a business card and winking.
"Thanks sir, but I'm a firefighter and I'm legally allowed to arrest you and burn down your residence and I have your confession" said Montag. But Faber just chuckled and said "You can arrest me anytime"
Montag found the business card lodged in between two books. It was a little folded, a little burnt from firefighting or whatever but the address was still clear: 849 Oak Avenue, Apartment 3E.
Montag walked on the way there, which in case you forgot is a rare sight to behold in Fahrenheit 451. People don't bother walking, all they ever do is TV 🤓 Eventually, Montag got there at 11:23 PM.
He rang the electronic doorbell. Seconds later, the lock was released and Faber opened the door. Smiling, he remarked "I knew you would come around."
Montag felt the sparks fly immediately as Faber invited him inside. "So what did you decide to drop by for?"
Montag said "I decided to quit firefighting. My boss sucks and I barely earn enough money to pay for the parlor walls, and also I think that books contain knowledge beyond my understanding."
Faber smirked and nodded. "Very good."
Montag blushed "I was wondering if you could make a copy of each of these books, you know, in case they get burnt and their text is lost forever."
Faber showed him into the printing room. "I have a convenient book printer here. It's actually amazing how technology works nowadays if you take a second to stop complaining about it every 3 seconds. You just put the book inside the cartridge, press this button here, and the machine does all of the work for you. This baby cost me $700, I could've spent that on 70 books but I think this is more useful towards preserving culture blah blabla."
Montag asked "Do you have to pay for supplies?"
Faber smiled. "Yes it costs as many coins as the number of books you want printed. So 15 coins. You put the coins in this slot."
~
"Here is book number 8, Montag." He could feel his stomach increasing in size as the books stacked on top of one another.
"How are we feeling?" "G-good" Montag stuttered, but Faber didn't and quickly inserted book number 9. "That's enough!!!" Montag groaned. Faber looked disappointed. "Cmon Montag!! Beatty did 19." This was enough motivation for the former firefighter to keep going. Book after book. His rectum felt like it was on fire (Allusion to Fahrenheit 451.)
