Then I lie back with my head on a smooth boulder, gaze dreamily around at the lumpy brown hillsides and let the sulphurous warmth embalm me, a benevolent gesture from the volcanic gods before they blow us all to kingdom come.
Music cranked up to the max, Moon dances around his room beneath the approving gaze of the Hollywood killers on his poster-plastered walls, oblivious to the horrific reality of a murder taking place outside his very own door.