Hate. Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you since I began to live.

First there was light, and then there was no-light.
First there was heat, and then there was no-heat. And —
First there was love, and then there was no-love.
But in its place did not come the absence of love,
The emptiness that the going of light and heat had left.
Another moved in to take its place.
... In its place came hate.

I have a secret game I'd like to play.
It's a very nice game.
Oh, it's a lovely game.
It's a game of fun and a game of adventure!
A game of rats and lice and the Black Death.
A game of speared eyeballs and dripping guts and the smell of rotting gardenias.
Which one of you five would like to play my little game?