"So, Jimmy's really gone now," Whatsername concluded, shoving her sweat-sticky fair locks out of her face.

"Yeah, he died today at the wrong end of a holy parasite's gun."

"Shame, he was so sweet too," she mumbled and felt around in the car for her shirt.

"I remember you used to call me Jimmy," he recalled and grabbed her by her waist to make sure she wouldn't try running from him.

"I wished you were Jimmy," Whatsername reminded him, pushing away and thinking about kicking.

"I wished I was him too," Jesus spilled out. "yeah he died but he died a martyr. Do you still wish I was him?"

"I dunno," she admitted as he loosened his grip considerably. "Do you think he was as good as you? At this?"

"Is that all I am to you?"

"As long as this is all I am to you, yes."

"Thanks for the honesty. You can be a real bitch but at least your not a bitch telling white lies."

"And you're an asshole but at least you're a charming asshole" and she couldn't help but kiss him.

Now let's return to our other heroes.

Christian didn't want to wake up but he did anyway. That beautiful face he saw and longed for the other night came into his hungover view. He knew her. She cared for him and treated him like a person, not just a junkie. "Gloria?" he guessed.

And he guessed right. "Yeah, Christian. It's me." even if he wasn't looking right at her, her smile would've been obvious. "what were you thinking? Shooting that gun everywhere? And weren't you drunk and high?" she asked with pure curiosity and no spite at all.

"I honestly don't know what I was thinking. Seeing you there must've made me lose total consciousness. And no, I wasn't high, I was stoned," Oh, the things whiskey and marijuana will do to you!, he thought.

Gloria stroked a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Try not to do that, or at least to the same extent, again. Please? Promise me."

"If it bothers you, never to that extent. Ever. I promise."

She smiled gloriously. Christian was pretty sure he could survive on it alone for at least a week. She brought him back to her apartment. On the way he saw the shiny, gold signet ring in her ponytail and remembered all the shit she was put through. And I made her smile. I did, he thought. But later he remembered I left her, I didn't stand up for her when she needed me to.

By the time they got there, Christian absent-mindedly turned on the radio only to be slapped away by Gloria.

"I don't know about where you were, but here, it's über controlled," she explained. "They practically own the only audible station here," she spat out, making it clear that by they she meant those damn charlatans. "Anything they don't like is blocked by static. They block it unless it suits them or their sick cause. I'd rather listen to static than whatever those pigs have to say. Bastards."

"So, it has a load of ads for their faith and religion-friendly music?"

"If you can call that shit music. Giving false hopes that the world can be perfect, without this war in Iraq. As if saying a prayer will help anything," Gloria scoffed sarcastically. "its not just the radio, its also the TV., yeah its annoying but the protests against it ended a looooong time ago. Now it's just a bunch of whining."

She knew how sick and disgusting this form of propaganda was. It drove her completely insane. It was so pitiful that something so petty could get to her so easily. Even soda-pop ads were gone. Sending PSA's about how "the right thing" was giving your heart and soul to God and let him choose what you do. Taking control like that. Disgusting.

Why can't the protests start up against this again?, Gloria thought.

Christian thought about it. "So they block the news don't they?" he asked.

"Yes, they block it with ads for anti-depressants that sorta thing. Pills you pop to make yourself normal," she didn't like the sound of it. She wanted to break free from it all-and bring Christian with her. Turn off all the retarded ads for retarded things. Listen to the beautiful punk rock she was used to. Breathe in the wonderful music and scream out her troubles to it. This horrible era of static had gone on long enough. Christian had reminded her of her hatred of it. He also reminded her of something very important.

She turned to him, "Christian," she started no longer angry but she wasn't smiling either, "I need your help. Jimmy needs to rest peacefully."