He stares into the carved space where the angel's eyes would be. Longingly. A single tear descends from his anime face shadow and rolls down his cheek, followed by a bunch more other tears.

OVERSEER: Alas...poor Billy•bob. Yeah, I knew 'em. A coon o in•fin•ite jest, a most ex•cellent fancy. I hath borne him on my back a thousand, maybe...a thousand an' two times. And now my ima•gin•ation just don't cut it. My gorge r--

(Vomits) (Returns to holding angel Shakespeareanly)

OVERSEER: --rises of it. Here hung he. Here he hung, here hung. He...hung... Those lips. I have kissed I know not even how oft. Where be your gibes now, Billy•bob?

The Overseer passes another angel statue.

OVERSEER: Your gambols?

Another.

OVERSEER: Your gongs? Your flashes of merr•i•ment what were wont to make the whole plan•ta•tion crack up an' split its sides? Not one now to mock your own grinnin' eh? Quite chap•fallen ehhhh? Now you get to your little girl•friends' cabins an give 'em a little bit o this; A heart that loves will have black fingers. Sure they'll think that's a laugh.

Prit•hee, Bi•lly, tell me just one thing before you go.

(Pauses) (Vomits again)

OVERSEER: - Shake•speare

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