so the browncoats principal objective was not to be found judged and condemned which entailed disappearing from the scope of the parental planet and so he armed himself with demoniacal patience and clutched the dirt-smudged bottom of his shirt and grit his teeth and spent in the underground passage a period of time that struck him as being equal in duration to all the epic battles between beowulf and his endless parade of giants and dragons and to any titanomachy or any sum and combination of herculean labours and as expected in reality it had hardly been an hour and the boy browncoat hammered life to be too long and crawled out and in this hour although he did not fixate in his memory the flux of his tortured consciousness he later proclaimed himself convinced that he had managed to blame the entire world starting with the idiot world and the idiotic and cruel representatives of unfairly founded parental potency and of course it was only natural that he thought it extremely unjust that his promising haha and youthfully ebullient existence would have to end because of a game that had slipped out of control and in the end of ends how and why the fuck did they expect a fucking pipsqueak who could barely spell [ sisyphus ] to exert any degree of effective control especially in a situation of total jungle absolute warfare but all such mental athletics did not import too very much at the time for the boy brownback was in any case swiftly defeated by a liminal degree of hunger and an overwhelming horror at having to unload his bladder in public especially in a disgusting hole in the ground well cement that was olfactorily and sthetically repulsive and so he returned to his home and his father was there and no one said a thing and the boy browncoats normal existence was pacifically resumed with the tragic results the adult browncoat had before him each mourning or would have in any case if his bathroom mirrour werent perfectly inundated by cigarette smoke and if he ever actually looked in his mirrour in the mourning or at other times and if he actually used the bathroom or any other ersatz-sanitary facilities ever at all in his legally autonomous ec-sistence but no it would never stop and no why would it and fuckit and fuck that one-eyed girl fuck her in her empty socket would it not have been definitively preferable and seductiver had he become a vagabond and a bohemian at the age of seven at least he would have grown up a man but why all the spittle there was no spittle he was just having a bit of fun because and besides rare were the occasions upon which he ventured to produce a collectors amount of flecks and fountains he was entitled to plan ahead and enjoy them was he not after all was he not a man no of course not he had never claimed to be and if this be a man and shut up and keep talking .