And I Was Having Too Much Fun

As I've Said, Freedom Is Really An Illusion. Anytime We Think We Have A Real Choice, It Just Means We Haven't Seen The Shotgun Aimed At Our Navel.

But What Could I Do? Be Stupid For A While? I Wasn't Sure I Knew How, Even After So Many Years Of Careful Observation.

For My Part, My Interest In Paris Had Faded Away Completely Long Ago When I Learned That It Was In France.

It's That Moon Again, Slung So Fat And Low In The Tropical Night, Calling Out Across A Curdled Sky And Into The Quivering Ears Of That Dear Old Voice In The Shadows, The Dark Passenger, Nestled Snug In The Backseat Of The Dodge K-car Of Dexter's Hypothetical Soul. That Rascal Moon, That Loudmouthed Leering Lucifer, Calling Down Across The Empty Sky To The Dark Hearts Of The Night Monsters Below, Calling Them Away To Their Joyful Playgrounds.

…a Cheerful Black Shadow Reared Up Behind Him As He Spoke, Thundering A Happy Challenge To My Dark Passenger, Which Slid Forward And Bellowed Back.