There is nothing. Only warm, primordial blackness. Your conscience ferments in it -- no…

I like nothing.

I know you do, baby... I know...

How about you cough up some more of that sweet oblivion?

Coming right up, sir. Smooth passage...

I want to get off now, I like pain and burning light and wanting things from people who don't want to give them to me.

Allons-y, let's go!

Gimme some more.

You got it, sweet brother! Nothing upon nothing, upon nothing!

Never ever ever?

Never ever ever ever, baby!