somethin' in the air tonight.

ooh, what is it? that's me.

alice hauls a large, rag-covered shape into a shallow hole in the ground & begins angrily filling it with sand.

( her smile isn't just gone, it was never even there in the first place. ) oh. him. fine. wait here.

Well I hope I'm worth the wait, handsome. What can I do for you?

who said that?

DIDN'T I SHOOT THAT BITCH IN THE FACE?

them old hollywood types or the sort what's up in the sky?

what happened to the sand?

in your dreams.

yippee ki-yay.

whenever you open your fucking mouth i do.

the brandin' one.

get the iron.

one hop this time...

here piggy piggy...

FUCK!!!

can't see a damn thing out there.

so plug it in.

you losin' it, darlin'.

you don't have a family.

she had a name it was

...king. yeah, that's what you'll be. everythin'll be all hunky dory right as rain & those cunts at the tops will pay their fucking due.

get that commie shit out of your goddamn mouth.

for a second she just looks so sad.

honey, you're shootin' blanks.

if i had a child it wouldn't be with you.

he's still an ashtray.

i thought it'd be bigger.

well hello there.

somethin' about all these screens & funny robots gives me the shivers.

lucky 38. that glimmering godless testament, both protector and punisher of the city of sin. for most of its existence, it had thrived on mystery, the roulette wheel seen before the sun across the west's skyline. some wondered if it was possible for a taller building to survive the bombs.

did i ask for a talking ash tray? no. so shut the *fuck* up.

everywhere you go is a damn haunted house. you bring the ghosts with you.

this cunt.

she likes to take out their kneecaps when they try to run

people who have tasted meat are turning into pigs out there.

no one tells me when to go to bed.

coulda been a fine politician.

you not used to flattery or somethin'?

that shrill awful voice.

all my friends are dead.

dunno what it means but anything's pretty comin' from those lips.

i miss them.