Dr Jew

and would gradually fade away with time and the mutability of weather, decay.
    His aunt held him and he could feel his head cracking with the love he felt for his uncle, and his aunt was crying too when she saw the genuine father that had been taken from the boy 's life.
    "I 'm so, so sorry, Swan."
    He squeezed and held her as he would his mother and it let him forget the perpetual loss of parents and uncles and remember simpler , steadier ways of living that would gradually erode day after day until his last day and breath. It allowed his aunt to forget also the man she had known so many years who had stolen the man she married. All of David Parker, the many David Parkers, a different one for every person encountered – all of them were dead now and this thing that barely resembled him was all that remained to put a last snapshot in their memory. But Dave Parker, if given the option, would not have left them a memory. He would have left them nothing.
    "Co me on already!" – the midget's voice intruded as it always did. Through Anne the voice cast a vision of her future life chained to the midget, who had in his eyes a cruelty that surpassed even David. They would stay together, moving from town to town and barely keep the law at arm's length until the money trickled away and the midget sucked her life off her, beating and whoring her to the streets as she grew obese, plagued, malnourished by fast food breakfasts and lack of light as the curtains stayed closed and she succumbed, succumbed.
    "No!" she said.
    "Aunt Anne?" said Swan.
    They took one last look at the husband and uncle on the bed and closed the door on all that. The steps to the living room were a descent into an unknown realm where everything would be redefined from that day forward. Each stair would never press against their feet again. It always framed itself as a frightening thing.
    "You got the money?" said Vinny.
    "Let's go," said Anne.
    "Did you get –"
    "Let's go!" said Anne. "Yes, let's go."
    Vinny gave her a look that said so much more. Words would take place later.
    "Alright, Anne. You drive, I'll direct you to my place."
    Twenty minutes later they had crossed the park to Vinny 's apartment in the Sunset district near the beach.
    When they arrived, Vinny distracted Swan by letting him play Snuff Assassin 3 , the popular pornographic video game of assassination and corporate malfeasance. Swan didn't really get the game. There were two ways to win: Either take the side of the "Good" and become a hitman, training in Pencak Silat in Indonesia, Muay Thai kickboxing in Thailand, and firearms and explosives in Nicaragua, and then return to California to exterminate everyone in the professional porn industry so that only amateur "splinter cell" porn production units remained (to be combated in Snuff Assassin 4: Big Brother ); or, you could choose to align yourself with the "Bad" and start as an amateur in the industry, working your way up to corporate wonk status, trying to stay alive and avoid AIDS and drug overdoses, lobbying Congress and battling soccer moms and the religious right. To "win" this path in the game meant to completely own a political figure at the governor level or higher, to legalize prostitution in a major metropolitan area, or to gross over $100 million for a wide release of a theatrical porn film.
    The two game paths were both challenging and offered many droll adventures. To climb the ladder in the porn industry was more of an RPG experience, while training as an assassin was more of a hands-on shoot 'em up sort of thing. Swan chose to take the assassin route because it was easier to understand (it was the recommended path for younger players) and because he naturally sided with the "Good."
    He had completed his training – it seemed more like a formality to familiarize novice players with t he play control in the game – and had returned to California to find an employer to fund his adventures. His options were several, and he finally chose to go with the Catholic Church because of the money, but he also recognized that the formal aspects of religion confused him, and the few times he had been to church with his mother as a child he wasn't sure which type of church it was.
    His first target was a smalltime actress – very low on the totem pole, more of a sport kill to get the blood going and the trigger finger wet. Such minor figures would be taken out later in the game en masse when the player had enough money to buy