Perhaps his nemesis will join him, as promised forever ago and just minutes past, though probably not—that one can deny it all he wants, but he’s as good as saddled with a halo. Snorting in mocking disgust, then laughing at the far infinite mockery of a universe unfathomably more disgusting, he hums a broken little tune which he promptly forgets he knows as the wind snatches it from his lips. (3 of 8)