“And just like members of our family, we have exactly one photo of each of them. We englarge our family by placing one, and only one, order with every pizza place in the area. Then we add our new family member to our Collection, in the basement, behind the soundproof walls! Wait, did I say all that out loud? Uh, forget you ever saw these trophy photos, I mean, family photos, that I was looking at on my computer while I should be working, for no reason.”
Momma always complains about Francis’s lack of ambition. Here, he desperately attempts to show her the scope of his vision, that laziness itself can be an art form. He will recline, like he does on Momma’s couch, but now he will let our mightiest river move him swiftly, state after state, until he’s finally swept out to sea and can embrace annihilation as he’s never seen again. “Why not just take the bus to the beach?” asks Momma as she takes a single cupcake out of the oven. Her world has always been, in every way, small.