This novelization of earthly damnation is dedicated to the American apostate, Jim Goad, who, like the author, is descended from the despised human weeds planted on an alien shore, grown thorny for being poor—a feral crop which shall hopefully see the fall of the now undead scions of the planter class, who in our most recent childhood abandoned our pruning for more manageable crops of the tropics.

Thank you for the inspiration, Jim, and may the pale nightshade of our transplanted race unleash the thirst of Ares upon our betters and consign their pets to Charon’s deserved embrace.

-James LaFond, dawn, 1/22/17