'I do not know,' he said for lack of the requisite points and ratings to secure the appointment.
'They have no feelings,' said Doctor Benway, slashing his patient to shreds. 'Just reflexes... I urge distraction. '
'The age of consent is when they learn to talk.'
'May all your troubles be little ones as one child molester say to the other.'
'It's really ominous, my dear, when they start trying on your clothes and give you those doppelganger kicks....'
Frantic queen trying to claw sport jacket off departing boy.
'My two hundred dollar cashmere jacket,' she screeches....
'So he has an affair with this Latah, he wants to dominate someone complete the silly old thing.... The Latah imitates all his expressions and mannerisms and simply sucks all the persona right out of him like a sinister ventriloquist's dummy.... 'You've taught me everything you are.... I need a new amigo.' And poor Bubu can't answer for himself, having no self left.' JUNKY: 'So there we are in this no-horse town strictly from cough syrup.' PROFESSOR: 'Coprophilia... gentlemen... might be termed the hurumph... redundant vice....'
'Twenty years an artist in the blue movies and I never sink so low as fake an orgasm.'
'No good junky cunt hang up her unborn child.... Women are no good, kid.'
'I mean this dead level conscious sex,... Might as well take your old clothes to the Laundromat....'
'And right in the heat of passion he says, 'Do you have an extra shoetree?' '
'She tell me how forty Arabs drag her into a mosque and rape her presumably in sequence.... Though they're bad to push --all right, end of the line, Ali. Really, my pets, most distasteful routine I ever listen to. I was after being raped myself by a pride of rampant bores.' A group of sour Nationalists sits in front of the Sargasso sneering at the queens and jabbering in Arabic.... Clem and Jody sweep in dressed like The Capitalist in a communist mural. CLEM: 'We have come to feed on your backwardness.'
JODY: 'In the words of the Immortal Bard, to batten on these Moors.' NATIONALIST: 'Swine! Filth! Son of dogs! Don't you realize my people are hungry?' 71
CLEM: 'That's the way I like to see them.'
The Nationalist drops dead, poisoned by hate.... Dr. Benway rushes up: 'Stand back everybody, give me air.' He takes a blood sample. 'Well, that's all I can do. When you gotta go you gotta go.'
The traveling queer Christmas tree burns bright on the rubbish heaps of home where boys jack off in the school toilet --how many young spasms on that old oaken seat worn smooth as gold.... Sleep long in the valley of the Red River where cobwebs hang black windows and boy bones.... Two Negro fags shriek at each other.
FAG 1: 'Shut up, you cheap granuloma gash.... You known as Loathsome Lu in the trade.' DISEUSE: 'The girl with the innaresting groin.'
FAG 2: 'Meow. Meow.' He slips on leopard skin and iron claws.... FAG 1: 'Oh oh. A Society Woman.' He flees screaming through the Market, pursued by the grunting, growling transvestite....
Clem trips a spastic cripple and takes his crutches.... He does a hideous parody twitching and drooling....
Riot noises in the distance --a thousand hysterical Pomeranians. Shop shutters slam like guillotines. Drinks and trays hang in the air as the patrons are whisked inside by the suction of panic.
CHORUS OF FAGS: 'We'll all be raped. I know it, I know it.' They rush into a drugstore and buy a case of KY.
PARTY LEADER (holding up his hand dramatically): 'The voice of the People.' Pearson the Money Changeling comes acropping the short grass seized by the extortionate commandant of Karma, hiding in a vacant lot with the garter snakes, to be sniffed out by the scrutable dog....
The Market is empty except for an old drunkard of indeterminate nationality passed out with his head in a pissoir. The rioters erupt into the Market yiping and screaming 'Death to the French' and tear the drunkard to pieces.
SALVADOR HASSAN (squirming at a keyhole): 'Just look at those expressions, the whole beautiful protoplasmic being
BENWAY: 'Like to run a blood test on those boys.'
