Chuck Palahniuk - Lullaby

So I am really in love with Helen. A woman in a man's body. We don't have hot sex anymore, but as Nash would say, how is that different than most love relationships after long enough?

Mona and Oyster have the grimoire, but they don't have the culling song. The grimoire page that Mona gave me, the one with my name written in the margin, it's the song. Along the bottom of the page is written, «I want to save the world, too—but not Oyster's way.» It's signed, «Mona.»

«They don't have the culling song,» the Sarge says, Helen says, «but they have a shield spell.»

A shield spell?

To protect them from the culling song, the Sarge says.

«But not to worry,» he says. «I have a badge and a gun and a penis.»

To find Mona and Oyster, you only have to look for the fantastic, for miracles. The amazing tabloid headlines. The young couple seen crossing Lake Michigan on foot in July. The girl who made grass grow up, green and tall, through the snow for buffalo starving in Canada. The boy who talks to lost dogs at the animal shelter and helps them get home.

Look for magic. Look for saints.

The Flying Madonna. The Roadkill Jesus Christ. The Ivy Inferno. The Talking Judas Cow.

Keep going after the facts. Witch-hunting. This isn't what a therapist will tell you to do, but it works.

Mona and Oyster, this will be their world soon enough. The power has shifted. Helen and I will be forever playing catch-up. Imagine if Jesus chased you around, trying to catch you and save your soul. Not just a patient passive God, but a hardworking, aggressive bloodhound.

The Sarge snaps open his holster, the way Helen used to snap open her little purse, and he takes out a pistol.

He says, Helen says, whoever says, «How about we just kill them the old-fashioned way?»

Now this is my life.