Getting my brains fucked out by hercules and his spider woman wife on my hands and knees on their living room floor put me in the perfect position to admire the massive triptych covering the wall opposite me. They had this whole smart light system trained on its mass of bloody reds and relief whites, all outlined in heavy black. A chaos of little cartoonized objects and characters. There was one word on it—OOPS—in all caps like that, issuing from a big word bubble. That was what I was focusing on, whimpering a little, gleefully, bumping back and forth, back and forth. OOPS.

OOPS.

OOPS.