And the first girl told the second girl this story, and the whole time she was talking it looked like she was about to crack up. The second girl was obviously scared. But the first girl, the one who was telling the story, looked like she was about to roll on the floor laughing.

And then, remembered Pelletier, Espinoza said the first girl was a two-bit psychopath and the second girl was a silly bitch, and the film could have been good if the second girl, instead of staring openmouthed and looking horrified, had told the first one to shut up. And not gently, not politely, instead she should have told the girl: "Shut up, you cunt, what's so funny? does it turn you on telling the story of a dead boy? does it make you come telling the story of a dead boy, you imaginary-dick-sucking bitch?"

And so on, in the same vein.

These are bad plans and there are things in the spaces with fog going backwards, just all around no matter where you are swiping your hands or waiting to get your picture taken. There are just things all around no matter how many things there are going in a rocketship for decades or just waiting to be eaten or threatened.

I say good morning and good night to my mother instead of hello and goodbye. I say okay like my cousin.