Branch
You're not going to just wear that boring, brown paper bag, are you? It's an insult to the rich tradition of facial ornaments.
Is it?
Masks are all about spectacle. Wonder, terror, conjuring gods and spirits! And here you stand with this plain nothing.
Maybe a bit of flair wouldn't hurt...
Yes! Don't think of it as a bag, think of it as a canvas. Now go forth and elevate.
Wait. This isn't going to ruin the bag, is it?
Art has never ruined anything, ever.
Minor additions won't compromise the bag's usability. You may proceed.
Hrmmm... (Consider what flourish to add.)
The paper bag dangles in your grip, a pulp face waiting for definition.
What about a cat? Cats roll deep. Lurking in dumpsters, owning streets and rooftops, ruining ecosystems.
Recall the emblematic cigarette. Mystery, composure, lives lived on borrowed time -- an homage to your craft.
You could just leave it as is. Restraint's also a choice.
Hold on. Can I pick more than one thing?
No. Artists should commit to a precise vision.
Draw some cat whiskers.
Your pen rasps across the paper. Soon, whiskers fan out.
A sly, mischievous aura. The implicit suggestion of claws. Very primal. A lovely piece.
Add a cool, mysterious cigarette.
You tilt the pen -- first shading a slim cigarette, then adding wisps of smoke.
Oh, the mystique of it. Only one word is needed: bravo.
Let's keep it plain, after all.
Really? Well, at least now it's a choice. Let's say you went for ultra-minimalism.
Actually, plain's not good enough. (Consider adding flourish again.)
Put the bag away. [Conclude.]
You pocket the paper bag.
Branch
End of this branch
Plain's good. More forgettable that way.
This is about access to Bagman. Not art.
Or it could be both. Artful access, if you will. Bagman would probably love it.
That's a bit dramatic.
There's nothing dramatic about this thing, that's the problem!
It's just a bag. Let's not get weird. [Dismiss.]
Fine, be that way. Bland, tasteless, mundane.