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You had a charming air

So cheap and debonair

My widowed mother found so sweet.

And so she took you in

Her sheets still warm with him

Now filled with filth and foul disease.
"The Mariner's Revenge Song", The Decemberists
"Know what's going to happen afterwards, Gwyn? We're going to be assigned to help out your widow. Everyone else is busy with their own little plots of heaven. So it'll be the ivets who get dumped on. Once again. I'm going to be one of them, Gwyn. I'm going to be a regular visitor to poor, grieving Rachel. She'll like me, I'll make sure of that. Just like you and all the others, you want to believe that everything's so perfect on this planet. You convinced yourselves we're lust a bunch of regular lads who got a bad break in life. Anything else would have cracked your dream open and made you face reality. Illusion is easy. Illusion is the loses way out. Your way. You and all the others grubbing round in the dirt and the rain. In a couple of months I'll be in the bed you made, under the roof you sweated over, and I'll have my dick rammed up inside Rachel making her squeal like a pig in heat. I hope you hate that idea, Gwyn. I hope it makes you sick inside. Because that's not the worst. Oh, no. Once I'm through with her, I'll have Jason. Your shiny-eyed beautiful son. I'll be his new father. I'll be his lover. I'll be his owner. "
Quinn Dexter, The Reality Dysfunction
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