“Let the two cross-tops and junk gin and four no-filter Camels make your heart pound.”

“Dig in the pope's pocket for the bullet, the brown glass vial with the magic top. Snort. Taste chemicals running down the back of your throat. Snort again.”

“Know the mistake of your dcision before your first step.”

“Decide then as you set your jaw and clench your teeth that you will get rid of your boy. Promise yourself this. You will get rid of your boy as soon as the cocaine and money run out. Promise yourself. Try to remember the word. Promise. Swear.”

“See a storm. See a bad spanking. See your boy is ugly. Decide your boy is the pope. Blow the pope away with an imaginary gun. Fellate your own fingers afterward.”

“So what. I'd make up whatever I lacked in other ways. Quickly. Fast, fast. Gimme my cake. It was time to fuck.”

“Think that it was meant for your head, or maybe hers, and as you think this, look at wht it got instead.”