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So
I
can
wash
the
pants
,
Tyler
has
to
show
me
how
to
make
soap
.
Tyler
's
upstairs
,
and
the
kitchen
is
filled
with
the
smell
of
cloves
and
burnt
hair
.
Marla
's
at
the
kitchen
table
,
burning
the
inside
of
her
arm
with
a
clove
cigarette
and
calling
herself
human
butt
wipe
.
"
I
embrace
my
own
festering
diseased
corruption
,
"
Marla
tells
the
cherry
on
the
end
of
her
cigarette
.
Marla
twists
the
cigarette
into
the
soft
white
belly
of
her
arm
.
"
Burn
,
witch
,
burn
.
"
Tyler
's
upstairs
in
my
bedroom
,
looking
at
his
teeth
in
my
mirror
,
and
says
he
got
me
a
job
as
a
banquet
waiter
,
part
time
.
"
At
the
Pressman
Hotel
,
if
you
can
work
in
the
evening
,
"
Tyler
says
.
"
The
job
will
stoke
your
class
hatred
.
"
Yeah
,
I
say
,
whatever
.
"
They
make
you
wear
a
black
bow
tie
,
"
Tyler
says
.
"
All
you
need
to
work
there
is
a
white
shirt
and
black
trousers
.
"
Soap
,
Tyler
.
I
say
,
we
need
soap
.
We
need
to
make
some
soap
.
I
need
to
wash
my
pants
.
I
hold
Tyler
's
feet
while
he
does
two
hundred
sit-ups
.
"
To
make
soap
,
first
we
have
to
render
fat
.
"
Tyler
is
full
of
useful
information
.
Except
for
their
humping
,
Marla
and
Tyler
are
never
in
the
same
room
.
If
Tyler
's
around
,
Marla
ignores
him
.
This
is
familiar
ground
.
