Бойцовский клуб

           Wearenotcraportrash,either. 

           Wejustare. 

           Wejustare,andwhathappensjusthappens. 

           AndGodsays, "No,that’snotright." 

           Yeah.Well.Whatever.Youcan’tteachGodanything. 

           GodasksmewhatIremember. 

           Iremembereverything. 

           ThebulletoutofTyler’sgun,ittoreoutmyothercheektogivemeajaggedsmilefromeartoear. Yeah,justlikeanangryHalloweenpumpkin. Japanesedemon.DragonofAvarice. 

           Marla’sstillonEarth,andshewritestome. Someday,shesays,they’llbringmeback. 

           AndiftherewereatelephoneinHeaven,IwouldcallMarlafromHeavenandthemomentshesays,"Hello,"Iwouldn’thangup. I’dsay,"Hi.What’shappening?Tellmeeverylittlething." 

           ButIdon’twanttogoback.Notyet. 

           Justbecause. 

           Becauseeveryonceinawhile,somebodybringsmemylunchtrayandmymedsandhehasablackeye orhisforeheadisswollenwithstitches,andhesays: 

           "WemissyouMr.Durden." 

           Orsomebodywithabrokennosepushesamoppastmeandwhispers: 

           "Everything’sgoingaccordingtotheplan. 

           Whispers 

           "We’regoingtobreakupcivilizationsowecanmakesomethingbetteroutoftheworld." 

           Whispers 

           "Welookforwardtogettingyouback."