Werd had to save the day. He had to. Tinyman wasn't doing shit, having passed out drunk in the plush hotel room armchair, a roll of toilet paper draped about his neck, as he had cut himself trying to shave using as a mirror a full glass of bourbon.
And now Werd stood out on the balcony, the pleated white drapes ruffling in the wind.
Werd stood there, in the flicker of the TV static, brandishing a razor blade.
America, he says, I'm your daddy.
Because I grew up fed on toys, and then ... and then ...
There was a fire, yes
And Werd grabbed the glass of bourbon from the snoring Tinyman's endtable, and held it to the night, the decimated night ...
And then, I went to college and had to find a ... job, yes.
Werd gazed down upon the skyscrapers, bare and brutal, their dull steel gleaming by moonlight. Nihilistic city, I beseech you.
But I survived. I even went through a period where I thought I wanted to be an artist but ... I pulled through it okay look at me, I am success.
My name is Johnny Werd and I am running for president.
And all you people can vote for me ... or go fuck yourselves.