I’ve never liked wine anyway.* I imagined the glass slipping out of my hand and drifting down onto the white carpet to shatter, the pieces of silver flying and dancing passionately away from the deep red stain. What would it be like if I just slipped my hand… I would be terribly, oh so sorry, of course. I would apologize profusely and announce my utter clumsiness to the entire party, begging for pardon from my dear hostess. I could see myself now- mopping up the spill with my napkin, secretly knowing that it would be there forever as an infinite reminder of my poor table manners. Well, she shouldn’t have invited me. She knows better-She is a lady of grace and elegance and has no reason to invite me to such a party of such class. We discussed ethical treatment of minorities to a great extent, focusing on the various subjects of moral decay that is sprouting up in this country like spring flowers. Lovely little flowers, they were, indeed. I dreamt of picking them up, each one, and pulling off each petal and eventually crushing the stems into the warm dirt below. Mmm, I should thank Miss Lovely for such a Lovely time tonight. I do believe that I have had a delightful time this evening; I started dinner off with some fine hor-d’oeuvres, ripping the curtains down and slamming them on the table, a light salade, crashing my plate against the ground and throwing my silverware about, some delightful coq a vin, followed by the screaming of profanities, and finishing with Fonseca and my glass, half drunken, on the floor. A delightful party, my dear, my dear. So pleased to have you. I could spend every moment here, laying on the floor at this lovely dinner party, naked and rolling in my own feces, scowling at the act of men rubbing thighs and adjusting their glasses. I would love to just rip everything away and scream and hurry and spill all of this onto itself and leave miss lovely’s lovely white carpet all stained with everyone’s ****! I SAID IT- I said it because somebody had to say it! I am sure that I won’t be the only one killing myself at the end of the night- after the goodbyes and kisses on the cheeks. No no no, I am certainly not the only one! In fact, I should think that we will all step into the bathtub at the same time, skillful skillful skillful to cut the strings at the exact right moment. We really all are lovely little flowers aren’t we?