A brief explanation is in order.

 

Part of the reason that I held so tightly to my prior obligation, is that the person's name which appears to have been all but erased, is one which I found strangely appealing in the years leading up to the accident. I don't know what it was, but in the event that I was about to be implicated in unexplained fires, the one briefing book that I'd want in my toolkit was all but certain to raise the ire of our most expensive prisoner to date. And, if we add in the several emergency adjustments only agreed to at the last minute, we're talking in multiples of ten to the point zero power. There just wasn't any alternative but to circle the room slowly to get everyone's immediate non-reaction.

Take the woman who sits directly in front of me in Spelling, for example. She's had her work cut out for her from Day 1. I refused to get involved in her penny-ante struggles. Why? Look, I have to admit I was put off by the way she just 'sat there' and pretended to not have a care in the world, when, in point of fact, there was no denying that she'd been part of this thing from the start. In order to prove my point, I had her diagnosed with a 'quack' placebo and installed in a nightly surgical brigade which was just ripping it up down at the club. Yes, it's true, she got to perform the least favorite number from her repertoire. She had this weird idea that she could malignly influence the Judges by offering sexual favors of a very gross and disgusting kind. I'll have you know, and when I get my hands on her, I'll have her know, that these Judges are, to a person, Men and Women of the Cloth. Therefore, it doesn't take much to get them to see it your way. The point is, though, perversion of any kind, is most definitely an outlier extraordinaire!

While I coped with what seemed to be unsupportable contradictions, I had no idea that each night, while I slept soundly in my tent in a parking lot downtown, all the usual busybodies took to the airwaves and gave it their best shot when it came to trashing my already shaky reputation. I couldn't help but wondering if any of them ever had to meet payroll even once in their miserable lives. Also, I began wheeling large vats of indigestible protein broth at all hours through the streets of Little City to try to lure one or more of our incandescent marauders into a more health-conscious lifestyle. It's plain to see that we build a new relationship to ourselves one brick at a time. And no one who was there that day could ever deny that our moves wouldn't budge a thing without a major look-see from 'the Man Upstairs'. To that end, I've decided to give up any access I ever enjoyed to various and sundry perquisites concomitant to my former position in a now defanged hierarchy. We are now—each of us—beguiling what remains of our once substantial resources to convert a defunct bowling alley into a state-of-the-art escalator factory. I've made peace with my God. What, exactly, do YOU have to say for yourself?

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