DOLORES DEI - “I always loved you for it -- but it could not save us. It could not make me stay.” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - You would be right to drown this shit in alcohol. Drown it…until your neurons depolarize. Until it's gone, melted.

SHIVERS - THE WORLD IS A SUZERAINTY SHIVERS - OF REVACHOL.

TITUS HARDIE - “Put your damn gun down. People are gonna get hurt. We need to talk this through, alright?” KORTENAER - “SHUT UP!!! You're not gonna talk yourself out of this, loincloth-shit fuck!” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - There's something very wrong with him.

YOU - (Don't get involved in the game.) PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You're such a wuss!

YOU - I was born to drink. A new day, a new bottle! ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Time to get a drinking problem so massive that even stars collapse around it.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Now it's time to drink, to live.

SHIVERS - Someone is scraping snow off their windshield. At the roundabout, in the midst of which a statue of Filippe the III serves as a destination for grade-school field trips and a fine perch for winter birds.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - The metal doors are heavy and the flaking rust hurts your palms, but, together with the lieutenant, you manage to slide them open just enough to squeeze in. KIM KITSURAGI - “Good work.” He nods toward the impenetrable darkness inside. “Shall we?”

HALF LIGHT - Mmmm…the most beautiful smell in the world, fear.

PAIN THRESHOLD - A cornered animal might seek a hiding place that has some sentimental value.

HALF LIGHT - Here it comes. Death. YOU - Look him in the eye.

YOU - “What's a vision beast?” NOVELTY DICEMAKER - “It's an imaginary beast that guides you through life…by telling you to do more drugs, mostly.” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - A wise and noble beast, guiding you toward the land where the streets are paved…with drugs!

EGG HEAD - He looks at you with a knowing nod. As if it's obvious you will now break into dance. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You feel it. The anodes and the cathodes coursing through you -- your big toe starts tapping along to the bass, as if testing the waters…

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Say yes to CHOICE!

SHIVERS - A soft rustling. The snow seems to have gotten between your ears somehow…

YOU - “So let me guess…he's *disco*?” WORKING CLASS WOMAN - “Oh, thank god, no!” She nearly begins to laugh. HALF LIGHT - Hold on! Did she just laugh at your disco pants?

ELECTRONIC DOORBELL - Silence. No one's home at Fortress Accident. SHIVERS - They have failed.

HALF LIGHT - Fear seeps into you as you say it… JOYCE MESSIER - … YOU - “Mr. Evrart is helping me find my gun.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Fuck yeah! You should get some party eyes right now! Snap those sequins on you, boy.

YOU - What's above? SHIVERS - Coalition aerostatics hang like apparitions under the cloud cover. Way up there -- where rain forms -- rotors flutter silently.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - You're ready. HALF LIGHT - Ready -- but something is coming. It always is.

HALF LIGHT - DON'T FORGET TO TICKLE THE BEANBAG!

KIM KITSURAGI - “The further we get, the more this building seems to be tied to the case…” SHIVERS - Below, the hostel-cafeteria creaks and groans under your added weight -- a skeleton of composite support beams and cantilevers.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Betrayal is not painless. Even a doubt of it hurts.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Dance till you drop. Dance till you die, if you must.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Even dancing to this beat before, you knew it in your lungs where the pressure wasn't bursting. And in your heart that was alone and in your solar plexus where the hits should have landed…so does every chordate animal… YOU - “Needs more bass.”

KIM KITSURAGI - “Huh?” The sound bubbles out of him, even to his own surprise. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Look at that! His eyes dilate. That's joy, my man. You wouldn't be able to tell, but his glasses *just* magnify it.

INLAND EMPIRE - Perhaps there's someone there? Under the water. Waiting for you. SHIVERS - In front of the video rental on the corner. At the crossing… PERCEPTION (SMELL) - Smelling of Tutti Frutti and betrayal. PAIN THRESHOLD - Baby, you know it's going to hurt.

THE GREATEST INNOCENCE - Every decade that passes she seems less human somehow -- and more beautiful… PAIN THRESHOLD - And more beautiful, and *more* beautiful…

YOU - Listen to the wind. SHIVERS - Be honest. You're praying. It's that bad.

SHIVERS - REVACHOL FOREVER.

YOU - Why is my gut in such bad shape? ENDURANCE - Could it be an underlying condition aggravated by years of greasy meals scarfed down between shifts? Or the litres upon litres of hard liquor guzzled on an empty stomach?

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - There, hanging some distance above the horison, you can just make out a strange silhouette… HALF LIGHT - Don't let the shiny lights fool you, it's a goddamn killing machine, and there's nothing you can do to stop it!

YOU - What is Jamrock? SHIVERS - Revachol is the capital of the world. Jamrock is the capital of Revachol. Droplets form on your eyelashes.

COMPOSURE - It's pretty clear a *normal cop* is not what you are. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - You may be what they call a *big dick cop*.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Ouch, you strained your elbow trying to catch that stupid thing…dammit.

SHIVERS - The road spreads like the tentacles of a great octopus.

HALF LIGHT - Kill him. Kill him now.

YOU - Wait, am I in danger? HALF LIGHT - Can't you feel the hairs on your arm and on the back of your neck standing up? Your heart rate's through the roof, your pupils are the size of marbles. This is *irreversible peril*!

HALF LIGHT - Grand, violent pride swells in him. EMPATHY - Pride of the “at least we have this” kind. This is a cracked honour, a bitter pride.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You found it all. Now your mortal coil is *completely* protected. Few cops are this futuristic. YOU - At least now I am truly invincible.

THE MAN FROM HJELMDALL - Behind him rise harsh snowcapped peaks. In bold letters, the title “The Man from Hjelmdall” unfurls like a banner. HALF LIGHT - These images speak to something burbling deep within you: The primal struggle of a bunch of violent apes just dukin' it out.

YOU - Brain stem? THE HANGED MAN - Yes. That's what this part is called. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You've seen the drawings. You've studied them.

SHIVERS - The shop around you feels ancient suddenly, damp and saturated by the coastal air. The books are rotting, a great cold lives here. And there, too -- 1200 metres away, on the urban coast. The dark shape of a church is reflected on the water, calling.

METAL GRILLE DOOR - For a moment, silence. SHIVERS - A slight sensation of static electricity, as before a storm. A miniature conference is taking place inside, and you are the subject. METAL GRILLE DOOR - “What's the passphrase?”

KIM KITSURAGI - “So -- what do you think?” HALF LIGHT - *I* think he's dead -- and about to explode.

SCAB LEADER - “Fucking loincloths really did him in.” YOU - “Uhm….loin-cloths?” SCAB LEADER - “Yeah.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - He's clenching his teeth. There is silent pressure behind them.

PAIN THRESHOLD - You peer into the faded marks in the stone…they peer back like an endless row of tiny black holes. Sweat starts trickling down your brow. Your chest feels tight, looking at them. It's closing in…caving in, ever tighter. Your breathing grows even heavier.

YOU - “Hey, why am even I telling you this?” MAN WITH SUNGLASSES - “I don't know…why are you?” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You know what? It must be because he's *buff*.

YOU - (Whisper.) “Are women bourgeois?” STEBAN, THE STUDENT COMMUNIST - The young man gives you a slightly confused look. ENDURANCE - You only said what everyone else was thinking. Look around -- do you see any women here?