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"
Here
,
"
Marla
says
while
she
's
sitting
cross-legged
on
her
bed
and
punching
a
half-dozen
wake-up
pills
out
of
their
plastic
blister
cart
"
I
used
to
date
a
guy
who
had
terrible
nightmares
.
He
hated
to
sleep
too
.
"
What
happened
to
the
guy
she
was
dating
?
"
Oh
,
he
died
.
Heart
attack
.
Overdose
.
Way
too
many
amphetamines
,
"
Marls
says
.
"
He
was
only
nineteen
.
"
Thanks
for
sharing
.
When
we
walked
into
the
hotel
,
the
guy
at
the
lobby
desk
had
half
his
hair
torn
out
at
the
roots
.
His
scalp
raw
and
scabbed
,
he
saluted
me
.
The
seniors
watching
television
in
the
lobby
all
turned
to
see
who
I
was
when
the
guy
at
the
desk
called
me
sir
.
"
Good
evening
,
sir
.
"
Right
now
,
I
can
imagine
him
calling
some
Project
Mayhem
headquarters
and
reporting
my
whereabouts
.
They
'll
have
a
wall
map
of
the
city
and
trace
my
movements
with
little
pushpins
.
I
feel
tagged
like
a
migrating
goose
on
Wild
Kingdom
.
They
're
all
spying
on
me
,
keeping
tabs
.
"
You
can
take
all
six
of
these
and
not
get
sick
to
your
stomach
,
"
Marla
says
,
"
but
you
have
to
take
them
by
putting
them
up
your
butt
.
"
Oh
,
this
is
pleasant
.
