It’s in the entrails of a house party I’m not drunk enough for that I discover something utterly remarkable. The party outside retreats into a small memory as the lights in the bathroom dim like a stage. Like sure there’s this like… desire for it but we don’t actually have it. I mean — do you think it’s something we really need, a counterculture?”“Aftertimes” Sexx announces. And then all at once: “He doesn’t want us anymore.”“No, I don’t think so.”“Says we are not profitable anymore.”“Ah.”“Okay.”“So now what?”A beat.