YOU - “You're wearing glasses.” KIM KITSURAGI - “That's correct.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - That makes him a *binoclard*. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You feel a slight urge to put the lieutenant down for this, but you can't quite muster enough testosterone.

IDIOT DOOM SPIRAL - “Now, as you might imagine, snorting that much cocaine can't be healthy for a regular human, right?” ENDURANCE - Right. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - WRONG. It's *super healthy*.

YOU - “What makes these topping pies special?” GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - “They're wheat-free. And vegan. And…*huge*.” He pauses. “That's basically it. I'm a pie delivery man. How about we change the subject?” ENDURANCE - Yum. Did someone say topping pie?

SHIVERS - She smiles among the crowd, among the great ghost of the city she's leaving -- for another, far south. SHIVERS - Smaller. Distant. Hidden. Not like the great chandelier she sees sparkle in the dusk below her. SHIVERS - Good bye, Martinaise.

SHIVERS - Your teeth chatter as the snow melts on your exposed skin, running down your chest and your back in icy rivulets.

PAIN THRESHOLD - You smash into the wood and see a small crack appear on the door frame. It's going to take one more try to break through to the other side, but you've done it… PLAISANCE - “What are you doing, officer?!”

SCAB LEADER - “I'm just an honest scab. I won't have talk like that around here, you understand?” HALF LIGHT - His neck muscles tense up, the veins on his neck bulge. Be careful -- he's holding it *deep* in but there are things in there you don't want to meet.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - The effect of that otherworldly drop of liquid is slower, more subtle than that of real flames -- yet just as warm.

EMPATHY - All she can see are vague outlines of a great winding down. The doldrums. People killed, but no great transitions of wealth. It makes her feel old -- and something else. Something you can't put your finger on… HALF LIGHT - A quietly simmering rage.

INLAND EMPIRE - She turns her gaze to the future… EMPATHY - All she can see are vague outlines of a great winding down. People killed, but no great transitions of wealth. It makes her feel old -- and something you can't put your finger on… HALF LIGHT - A quietly simmering rage.

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

CUNO - He turns to Cunoesse. “The pig's trying to pit us against each other. Not gonna let him do that.” SHIVERS - A chill comes over you. The wind from the Boulevard South, lashing you -- for trying to separate them. For trying to take the street out of Cuno.

YOU - “Andro-Orlando Hair SCA.” ELECTRONIC DOORBELL - You ring the doorbell, but no one answers. HALF LIGHT - Just seeing the words “Andro-Orlando” gets your hackles up. Its very existence is a *threat* to your masculinity, to say nothing of your hair.

YOU - Try to stay cool. PAIN THRESHOLD - Nice try. The tears come streaming down your face as you crumble to the ground.

ACELE - “What *don't* you have a problem with?” YOU - “I…can't think of anything. There's gotta be something, right? That would be normal for a human person.” ACELE - “You tell me.” HALF LIGHT - You don't have any fuckin' problems! Not a single one!

YOU - Punch the door. DOOR, ROOM 3 - The door sits sturdily in the frame and your fist hurts. This was all a very good, normal thing to do. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Not to mention *great* exercise! KIM KITSURAGI - “Stop that!” The lieutenant sounds angry.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Beneath her waterproof raincoat and silk shirt is a body imbibed in Numb 12 perfume. You are suddenly and intimately aware of it. YOU - “Wanna…fuck?” JOYCE MESSIER - “…steal, kill and destroy?” She counters, quick as a whip.

MEASUREHEAD - “IF THE TENDER TOUCH OF MY MOTHER WASN'T OPPOSED I WOULD TURN INTO A…COMPLETE *PUSSY*.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - No, not a pussy!!

SHIVERS - The wind howls over the Bay of Revachol -- a cascade of cold air, flowing through the tangled city streets.

LENA - “Revachol is a Zone of Control, led by the Coalition. We have almost no government of our own. And certainly not one who's horseback.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - Of course. You've arrived at a *weak* world, where no one appreciates animal husbandry.

PAIN THRESHOLD - One bullet should do the trick. You have the gun…and you have the bullet.

ENDURANCE - More cardio? Let's *do* this.

MEASUREHEAD - The man is reeling, gasping for air, time stands still around you. In the distance the sounds of the harbour are falling silent. HALF LIGHT - He's open, rip into him. Right hook. Escalate it, get *intimate* with him…bring the hurt closer!

ENDURANCE - The seagull does what it takes -- and so do you. You've got that same spirit in you.

KIM KITSURAGI - “Yes, and?” YOU - “And?” KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant stares impassively. SHIVERS - MAKE IT RIGHT. MORE THAN YOU KNOW DEPENDS ON IT.

YOU - “Just one more thing -- give a shoutout to Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi. He *coincidentally* has you saved to his radio.” 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.

HALF LIGHT - The world island crumbles at your feet and in the far plain -- παλίντροπος.

SHIVERS - There will never be a club for anodic music here. SHIVERS - Not in a million years.

HALF LIGHT - You feel your legs shaking under you and your gun hand rise instinctively… YOU - “I've finally gone insane…” CUNO - You feel the kid tug on your sleeve -- and in the darkness -- four words: CUNO - “I can see it.”

PAIN THRESHOLD - Even better if you can find someone else, preferably a large man dressed in nothing but a towel, to thrash you while you're spread naked and helpless on a cool slab. YOU - Sounds invigorating. PARANORMAL BOOKS - It is, and good for the circulation, too.

SHIVERS - A detective stands behind the boom barrier; a breeze moves a curl of his hair.

SHIVERS - A small child steps out of a black tunnel, with silver trinkets in her pockets. SHIVERS - All around her, white snow on the extinguished coke furnaces, and on the weather-worn shacks, where fathers beat their sons after drinking.

YOU - Smash into the door and shout: “Fuck the system!” PAIN THRESHOLD - The door shudders with your impact. Hinges snap, panels crack, splinters fly by as you smash through, tumbling into the darkness ahead.

PAIN THRESHOLD - That's an awful decision.

YOU - Alright, I'm in. ENDURANCE - History will remember us, and this time we don't have to worry about her being kind. *Praeterita redire*, kingsman. Charge for Revachol, charge for *love*!

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.

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.

YOU - “Good bye.” PAYPHONE - A sigh. She heard you, but she does not hang up. And neither do you. You can't. PAIN THRESHOLD - That's it. You're caught in a trap. It'll take quite a while for the shit-circus to end now.

KIM KITSURAGI - “We have business back in the Whirling-in-Rags. Questions to ask. We should get to it.” HALF LIGHT - Something tells you you should be extra careful from now on.

YOU - Who am I kidding? Of course I want some speed. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Fast recovery, man! Quick turnaround. Superdetective back in action.

PAIN THRESHOLD - It's safe to say he is addicted to painkillers by now. YOU - “You like that drouamine, don't you?” THE DESERTER - “It's the little joys…” A crooked smile appears on his face.

NOVELTY DICEMAKER - “Turns out that working class men don't like genderless haircuts. They're scared of that word.” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You wouldn't like it either. The others would laugh at you.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - What a *solid* can of mass-produced piss water. Well over 10% alcohol in this so-called *beer*.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - In your hand: *pyrholidon* -- the double rainbow of synthetic hallucinogens. Rare and gritty, a product of the age of atomic power.

YOU - “I don't know the password.” EAST-INSULINDIAN REPEATER STATION - “Received. I will register this log-in attempt.” HALF LIGHT - That sounds bad -- a log-in *attempt*. Something a criminal would do.

SHIVERS - For your own sake -- forget about it. ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Synapses can be rerouted. The mind takes a new shape.

HALF LIGHT - Tremble. THE TIME IS NOW. τὰ ὅλα.

YOU - “Bad words are for losers. Good on you for not saying them.” LITTLE LILY - “Yep!” The girl nods firmly. “I don't say bad words. Lamby doesn't either.” HALF LIGHT - FUCK OFF.

JOYCE MESSIER - “Meth- and dextro-amphetamine, GBL and various synthetic psychedelics.” ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Shit yeah, baby, it's the Party Pipeline!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Fine. We're not worried…you'll crawl back to this bottle soon enough. We'll give you another chance. Booze *always* gives you *another* chance.