Of late, things haven’t been going too well for Fabo. Sure, the nights are fun, what with fucking and brawling, dancing and laughing, but somehow more and more goes bust in the course of such nights, and Fabo is beginning to wonder whether that’s not because the exterior is trying to adapt to the interior … But this insight, mature as it may sound, doesn’t really make things better. Perhaps because, for someone like him, it’s just too late.