"It's not too late to ruin the gravy," Aunt Helen warned him."Perfectly wonderful," Uncle Ted corrected himself. "But now it's my turn. Maestro? Excus... me, maestress? Maestrix?"The tinkle of Aunt Ruth's piano drowned him out and filled the house, and Uncle Ted's baritone followed close behind."O ni-ight dee-viiiiiine. O-o niiiiiight, when Christ was booooorn. O niiiiight, dee-VIIIIINE — " No, it's hideous," another woman protested as the piano went silent. "Make it stop! Make it stop!". ‘My God honey, what’s wrong? Why are crying?’ Thinking she would think his imagination was running wild again, he says, ‘I’m scared the bridge won’t be here much longer.’ With that natural compassion mothers seem to have she says, ‘Oh sweetie, nothing like that is going to happen, these things are like sold rocks.’ With that, all hell literally breaks loose. The ground, if a bridge could be called that, starts shaking, glass breaks, people scream. But the roars, the roars only Spencer could. Do you understand?”“Yes, of course, don’t worry,” Ellen smiled. “But can I ask him?”Lucy breathed deeply.“All right. But remember – he will see you back home by 11 o’clock. Are we clear about this?”Alas, Ellen was already running upstairs to write a billet for Richard, asking him to accompany her that evening.The evening was a nightmare for Richard. He had been so happy to see Ellen again after weeks of excuses and downright snubs, but once they arrived at the Binnings’, Ellen had left him. It took a moment before she realized that she'd just had a nightmare. God, now even her dreams were fucking over her. She turned to Barry's side of the bed, but he wasn't there. A glance at the bedside clock showed that it was 3a.m. Where was he? Through the bedroom door she saw flickering light from the direction of the den and she got up and walked to it. There was Barry, jacking off again, watching a videotape of Susan sucking the dick of one man while a young man was fucking her from.