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And everything goes back to normal.
Dawn is in front of the TV in her apartment again, her brain’s madness slowly subsiding, then she suddenly starts to feel the drowsy grab of the Thorazine. Her brain tells her to fight it, pick up the pipe, smoke it, more, quick, more! But everything is getting calmer with the drowsiness: Frank, the cartoons, the gang fuck, the bathtub faucets, the bathroom steam, the blackness, the coke, the speed, the ecstasy, the Thorazine, the screaming, the screaming, the constant fucking screaming for everything to fucking shut up and die and go the fuck away and just stop fucking touching me you fat, hairy, stinking, goddamn fucking cocksucker, stop it, stop it, stop it, please stop it, please, mommy, please, stop it, please fucking stop it, tell him to stop it, why aren’t you helping, stop it, stop it, make it stop.
– and Dawn passes out on the couch, the cartoons still killing themselves on the screen, her Sidekick still beeping and everything else finally having stopped.