Pink Floyd's Dusty Flat

One of Roger's Concept Albums

"Oh God, Roger, not again." Nick rolled his eyes as the bassist went on and on about some conspiracy theory for the eight hundredth time.

"But, you see, the government created Dolly Parton to mock all of us men! To torture us! To tempt us...they are trying to keep us under control." Roger speculated. Nick found himself wondering how he even interacted with this strange being.

Meanwhile, Rick was sitting in his room twiddling his thumbs, playing nonsensical tunes on his piano, gazing off into space, daydreaming, contemplating, falling asleep, lounging about, and chewing a piece of gum. Then, David burst in.

"By golly, David! You're interrupting me here!" Rick exclaimed, clearly annoyed.

"I-I'm sorry. Look, Rick, I came here to tell you something."

"Well, what is it?"

"I...kind of have a crush on you." The guitarist stated nervously.

"I have a crush on you, too." Rick said.

"R-really?! Cool! Uh...I mean, cool...whatever." David tried to act nonchalant about his deep feelings for the fellow musician.

Syd walked into the living room and wondered where Roger was. He figured he was in his room, so that's where he went. Syd was correct. There Roger was, scribbling away like a madman.

"Capitalism...capital punishment...hardship...large breasts...death...the faked moon landing..." He mumbled to himself as he was writing. Mr. Barrett was watching the creation of something horrible. He realized, to his dismay, that Roger was making another concept album, and that he would have to play guitar and sing to something involving "...large breasts..." The world may as well have ended as soon as Roger put his pencil on the paper. Then, Rick walked in. Then David--wait, why were they always together? Never the matter, then Nick. Their mouths went agape as they peered over the songwriter's shoulder in fear. The title of this album would be..."The Silicon Bricks in the Valley (And That Other Valley, If You Know What I Mean) and the Faked Moon Landing Wall". God help us all.

"So, what do couples do?" Rick asked David, assuming he might know something about the subject.

"Erm...I guess they like, go to nude beaches and stuff. Isn't that romantic?" David suggested.

"Dear lord! Are you out of your bloody mind?! I don't wanna be gazin' at some other man's damned junk while I'm trying to enjoy a glass of wine! Fackin' idiot." The pianist scoffed.

"Aw...it's so romantic when you speak like that to me, babe. Really poetic." They sat there for a few hours, contemplating the endless possibilities of their romance.

"Bob Ezrin approves of my album idea!" Roger said in excitement to the other band members. Wait--weren't they a band?! Couldn't they all come up with some sort of compromise? Did it have to come to this? Oh, right, this is Roger Waters. Everything the Floyd did was under authoritarian scrutiny.