Smash them into the ground. Crush their consciousness. You're doing the right thing with money. The squares don't like it. Fuck 'em, Mike. Arthur and I are so proud. This is the way it was meant to be. I love your fucking shades, man. Burn, baby.
O Lautreamont, I think Jack Pickles may have modelled himself on Maldoror.
Yeah, it wouldn't surprise me.
Do you have any words of advice for my readers?
Some words before I go?
Yeah. They don't let you out for long, do they?
I'm being punished, man. But that's another story. But your readers, just tell them not to take it all so seriously, the credit crunch, the New Depression. This ain't reality. They haven't even seen reality yet, Mike.
O Lautreamont, what is reality?
You know as well as I do. It's the blood in the sand. It's the cracked skull that won't stop laughing. It's the spider in the eyeball. These are just a few of the things that are hidden, which we occasionally reveal.
When the mood takes us, like.
You can call me Isidore, if you want. See ya, Mikey!