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And
if
Tyler
loves
Marla
.
I
love
Marla
.
And
what
happens
does
n't
happen
in
words
.
I
want
to
smother
all
the
French
beaches
I
'll
never
see
.
Imagine
stalking
elk
through
the
damp
canyon
forests
around
Rockefeller
Center
.
The
first
fight
I
get
,
the
guy
gets
me
in
a
full
nelson
and
rams
my
face
,
rams
my
cheek
,
rams
the
hole
in
my
cheek
into
the
concrete
floor
until
my
teeth
inside
snap
off
and
plant
their
jagged
roots
into
my
tongue
.
Now
I
can
remember
Patrick
Madden
,
dead
on
the
floor
,
his
little
figurine
of
a
wife
,
just
a
little
girl
with
a
chignon
.
His
wife
giggled
and
tried
to
pour
champagne
between
her
dead
husband
's
lips
.
The
wife
said
the
fake
blood
was
too
,
too
red
.
Mrs.
Patrick
Madden
put
two
fingers
in
the
blood
pooled
next
to
her
husband
and
then
put
the
fingers
in
her
mouth
.
The
teeth
planted
in
my
tongue
,
I
taste
the
blood
.
Mrs.
Patrick
Madden
tasted
the
blood
.
I
remember
being
there
on
the
outskirts
of
the
murder
mystery
party
with
the
space
monkey
waiters
standing
bodyguard
around
me
.
Marla
in
her
dress
with
a
wallpaper
pattern
of
dark
roses
watched
from
the
other
side
of
the
ballroom
.
My
second
fight
,
the
guy
puts
a
knee
between
my
shoulder
blades
.
The
guy
pulls
both
my
arms
together
behind
my
back
,
and
slams
my
chest
into
the
concrete
floor
.
My
collarbone
on
one
side
,
I
hear
it
snap
.
