Freak Rock Improv Group, Amsterdam.
“What the hell is the intergalactic rock korporation?”
” “Some of them are your fans, Miss”
They turn on, she thought, to see me.
And I am always there.
“You don’t like them,” Jason said.
“They’re dumb,” Heather grunted.
“What can you tell me in five seconds that I don’t already know?” he said sharply. “Tell me now.”
“No,” the Impossible Rod King said. “I’m your number one paramour.”
“I never have and never will disappoint my fans.”
How do I make her understand? he asked himself savagely, grinding his teeth together, nearly biting off a silver filling.
He hated that sensation: grinding off a piece of filling.
Destroying his own body, impotently.
Can’t she see that my knowledge of everything about her means something important? he asked himself.
