‘A big, loud place reeking of gasoline & teeming with ignorant people making too much noise. It needed a hero as perverse & backward as it had itself become. Something made from the same noxious material, a man with the same appetite for salt & fat and transactional sex…’
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Someone for whom intimacy & education were the domain of the stratum he never understood. The kinda folks that kept books in their homes & read them. That cared for their kids instead of exploiting them as trophies. His sons born of the same rotten seed, he could only view them..