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All I can say is I keep waking up in the dead of the night covered in a sweaty muddy residue after vividly dreaming (again) about President Abrahaham Lincoln siting back on the throne of England ejaculating Swasticas into a Gook with a bone through his nose until his face is a jammy pulp and then ordering Thora " Stanna Stairlift" Herd to throw his shattered bones into the river Ganges which is boiling with the remains of the pushed up, undernourished, curdled milk, chicken breasts belonging to Bodecia

then Cundolini's long lost hand starts to squeeze my eyes back into their sockets.....the chain rattles, curtain drops: fade to black