PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - All the muscles in your body harden. Time to *enter* him.

ACELE - “Yeah, well…” She tries to think of something to say. “Look man, fuck the hat.” HALF LIGHT - Your pulse rises.

SHIVERS - You close your eyes and hear the dogs bark. A lone woman sits by a factory window, dreaming of meteorite strikes. On Rue Saint-Gérôme a square bullet slides into a square-shaped chamber. In Old South a man without eyelids smiles. Spring has come. It's time.

YOU - What will be the repercussions if I take that sip? ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Nothing. Some *mental* stuff. Nothing to be worried about.

ENDURANCE - Take a deep breath. Best to go one piece at a time. YOU - “If no one can agree what real communism even *means*…” YOU - “…and we keep fracturing over theoretical disagreements…” STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - “Yes?” YOU - “…what's the point?”

YOU - “That was extremely unprofessional. I apologize.” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Playing the pity card, are we?

NOID - Noid is slowly shifting his hand toward a hammer. YOU - “Better keep those hands where they are, Noid.” ANDRE - “Noid!” Andre hisses. “No need to escalate things. It's okay, let's all calm down.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - If they try something, just knock their teeth out!

ELIZABETH - “You might want to start asking your questions now. It's not going to get better than this.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Questions? To hell with that. Get right up in the big dick's face -- physical confrontation.

LA FUMÉE, VOL. 1 NO. 4 - President Knezhinisky has long maintained that a strong body is the best defence against capitalist aggression. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Good thing you're a goddamn ox, son.

PAIN THRESHOLD - You're a total fucking horror show.

VOLITION - You know these guys? PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Who, me? ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Yes, he's talking about you, you sinewy idiot.

HALF LIGHT - Just take my money and leave me alone!

HALF LIGHT - Get the fuck out of here. Fuck this place, fuck this world, fuck this life, fuck this body -- just fucking go.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Sounds like you're a potential Suicide Cop! With his finger on the *eject* button. Ready to let go of this life! Guess what? YOU - What's that? PAIN THRESHOLD - One bullet should do the trick. You have the gun…and you have the bullet.

SHIVERS - I'VE SEEN YOU WITH HER -- AND I'VE SEEN YOU WITHOUT HER. I'VE SEEN YOU ON THE CRESCENT OF THE HILL.

KIM KITSURAGI - “I'm guessing that's when you were promoted to the rank of lieutenant double-yefreitor. A new badge usually comes with a new rank.” ENDURANCE - The pain in your chest tells you you were working yourself to death to earn that rank.

SHIVERS - Across the road, a forgotten bus stop; corrosion has opened a hole in its roof. An elm tree watches over the building.

WARDED DOOR- After exerting some force you manage to turn the key. It's eerily silent. The door slides slightly open, letting a draft of cold air into the room. SHIVERS - You feel the tiny hairs on the back of your neck rise up, as if someone's standing right behind you.

MEASUREHEAD - “LOOK AT THE ADVANCEMENTS IN THE SEXUAL SCIENCES - ALL THE NOVEL TECHNIQUES, ACCESSORIES, PRESERVATIVES, MASSAGE OILS, LUBRICATION SALVES, ABORTION CLINICS…” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Sounds fun—it's high time you incorporated some of these things into your daily life.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Son, you found another piece of the armour puzzle. Too bad it's too late for the big showdown. YOU - Don't think this helmet would have helped me anyway. (Look down at your wound.) PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - But it would have looked really impressive.

PAIN THRESHOLD - His wife left him. He needs to kill himself -- make her sorry she did.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - All this political chit-chat is just an excuse to rip tar with strangers.

HALF LIGHT - Here it comes. Death. YOU - Let it happen.

SHIVERS - Frisson covers your entire body. A feeling of cold.

SHIVERS - Further out, the lights burn bright on Résurrection; way beyond Martinaise -- a popular spa destination for ample-bodied Ozonne kids with equally ample pockets.

SHIVERS - You shudder, looking down at your feet. Dirty rainwater runs veins into the plaza snow. Two green snakeskin shoes stand at attention on the mosaic paving of the plaza.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Now -- I'm going to report you and you're going to go to jail.” HALF LIGHT - Oh no, you're a cop, you can't go to jail… YOU - “You are?” KIM KITSURAGI - “It was a joke, sadly.”

YOU - But I'm a feminist! ENDURANCE - Föminist? No! It can't be. Not you.

KIM KITSURAGI - Through the sudden sharp pain in your head, you hear the lieutenant mumble something to himself. PERCEPTION (HEARING) - “Fucking hell” and “Why me?” you hear through the white noise. PAIN THRESHOLD - It's especially bad suddenly. Felt like a vein exploded.

YOU - What's ahead? SHIVERS - The Valley of Dogs -- and before it, a familiar dome, like a ladybug without the colours. The building has a designated parking place for *your* carriage.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - COME ON! I SAID PARTY! YOU - (Party.) KIM KITSURAGI - The usually unflappable lieutenant takes a surprised step back. “Officer…what are you doing?” YOU - “I, uh…had to zip *up* my fly. That's all. Let's move on.”

YOU - “Don't pray to me. I'm nothing.” INSULINDIAN PHASMID - The reed-creature does not stop its stridulations -- it towers above you, parting the reeds it emerged from. Tuft like structures still rustle on its joints. HALF LIGHT - Perhaps it is preparing to *eat* its god?

ENDURANCE - There must be others like you. Men, who long for the days when words like 'loyalty' and 'love' meant something. ENDURANCE - People whose yearning for the past is so great they barely live in the present.

THE HANGED MAN - The basal ganglia feels clumpy -- what entered here has torn apart his reptilian complex. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - The *funk soul brother* at the back of his head has gone dark. Forever.

SHIVERS - Not long from now it will get dark. The rain will come.

SHIVERS - A monstrous shadow, high above the firetraps of the Domain -- the 8/81 motorway running over this district of Jamrock. Concrete pillars rise up from the midst of the dilapidated wooden houses. On the horizon, barely visible, the hazy machinery of the harbour…

YOU - “Hold on. Hyper…text?” TRANT HEIDELSTAM - “Yes, hypertext,” he says, as if it's self-evident. “Jan Kaarp and the collection of cultural hyperlinks.” HALF LIGHT - He's just making up fancy words. This doesn't mean anything!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Purest cocaine…Now that would make you feel like a king. Not that you can afford it…But you could do a bit more speed. That would be okay.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Light reflects off the green glass of the Commodore Red. The gods have been generous.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Slow and steady, boy. You know how to handle this. HALF LIGHT - Drop it now! This thing will *eat* you.

KLAASJE - With a muffled whimper, she extends her wrists. They're white, bony -- exposed below the rolled-up sleeves of her jumpsuit. HALF LIGHT - Waiting for your teeth and talons to cut into…

EVRART CLAIRE - “The Union is going to build a modern youth centre in Martinaise!” He grins broadly. “It will be *righteous*. We're gonna get those teenagers off drugs -- and *on* roller skates!” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Rollerskating -- not drugs, Harry. You like this.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Slow and steady, boy.

YOU - Hey, I'm trying at least. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Give it time. You'll fall off the wagon sooner or later.

SHIVERS - Its de-facto ruler, Cuno the Gremlin King, is pointing at *you*, talking to his friend. What is he saying? PERCEPTION (HEARING) - “Flying f****t…winged pig…shit is airborne…”

SHIVERS - The remains of a camp on a jagged piece of rock -- a tent, old dishes and cutlery. Long since abandoned.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Take the pain, god damn it, at least take that!

ENDURANCE - You've survived things these kids can't even imagine. They've got nothing on you. COMPOSURE - Now, chin up. You've got this.

HALF LIGHT - Beneath the grandness, there is fear. YOU - What are you afraid of? SHIVERS - DEATH -- IT IS TERRIFYING. I NEED YOU TO PROTECT ME FROM DEATH. I CANNOT PERISH. LOOK AT ME. I CANNOT END.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - COME ON! I SAID PARTY! YOU - (Party.) HORRIFIC NECKTIE - Fucking right. Let me just tighten up a bit for you -- is that good, you sick, wild fuck boy?