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her body and form a flaccid penis. Her chest is flat, and she’s stirring down there.
    Richard is behind me, but he has Bert’s face, like the mask, but it opens when he talks, and the tongue hangs out.
    â€œLet’s all go to the counter,” he says. “Let’s all go to the counter, and get ourselves some snacks.”
    I shake my head, confused, and when I try to speak, what I say comes out all wrong.
    â€œThis is not a threat,” I say. “You are violating housing laws, and if you do not vacate the building immediately, we will see your actions as a sign of aggression and we will use tear gas. This will be a response to your violent action and it is not a violent action on our part. We are here for peace. Please surrender your violence. Please surrender your violence.” And there’s a brief flash and I’m cowering in an abandoned apartment building and holding a sign that says, “No War Means No Peace.”
    I open my eyes slowly and try to establish where I am. As Richard’s bedroom comes into focus, the dream fades. My memories of the last few days are still weak in my head. Did Alex really have a cock made out of maggots? Are her breasts real or not? Did I sleep with her?
    I throw off the covers and out in the kitchen Richard is watching the TV . Dr. Verge is on again, holding his wife’s hand and carrying his son in the other arm. “This is a family,” he says. “This is what a family should look like.” The boy is smiling because he has to. You can tell because it’s so perfect, immutable.
    Smile for the thousands of people, son. We’re protecting family values. I sit down at the kitchen table beside Richard, and I wonder where the boy goes to school. Richard pours me a cup of coffee.
    â€œSorry about last night,” he says. “I don’t know why I got upset.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” I tell him. There’s no sense telling him that he got too close to her and believed what he wanted to believe. “What are we doing today?” He’s wearing his button-up shirt though, and a pair of dark pants.
    â€œI’ve got work in a half-hour,” Richard says. “Michelle might be stopping by with the books in a bit, and I think she said Alex went to school.”
    I take a sip of the coffee.
    â€œI’ll watch TV for a while maybe,” I say.
    Richard leaves, and Dr. Verge is still talking on the television. I walk to the front door and pull my boots on. Then I come back in here and sit and wait for him to say “family” one more time. I won’t have to wait long. When he says it, I’m going to put my boot through his face.

Chapter 7
    Dr. Verge says “family” and I kick the screen with my boot. It doesn’t break. Fuck the girl in the mall. Every day she feeds off the reinforcement of the beauty myth. It doesn’t matter if she was born Paris Hilton–skinny and blond. Every day she goes out and people treat her better because of how she looks. The world needs balance, and if I have to be unbalanced to supply it, then so be it.
    If I could punch her in the gut every day, I would. She doesn’t deserve it? Well, cry me a river. She doesn’t deserve the praise either. Who deserves anything? What does that even mean? She gets the praise, she gets the punch to the gut. That’s justice. If I could suck off a blindfolded straight boy and pull back the curtain every day, I would do that too. Every time a straight person laughingly calls someone a faggot, a straight boy should be tricked into a homosexual act. He should have to live with that fear that someone will find out about him.
    Dr. Verge says “family” again, but will it fix anything if I kick the television? I kick it anyway.
    I walk down the steps and onto the street, and the sun is bright and hot. I feel like something has been flapping inside my head and it’s finally come free. At