Fill up the nice vehicles and the brothers will be happy to ride in them. They will hide money, odd candy, bullets, and toy cows in the glove box. Then someone will cry and my prayers will become less human, more fish-like, full of a strident electricity. The brothers will feel the faces of a hundred dead lovers pressing against their chests, abdomens, and asses. One brother will die with something inappropriate in his body, indicating fulfillment of a certain vengeance.
