She says, "I'm sick. My heart is giving way to my gut. I can feel it burn and it dances with my stomach acids. I no longer walk, but stumble through crowds like a monster. I am a monster, with no hair and no energy and no hope. I am the victim of this disease and a victim of you and I burn in effigies of your compromise. And when you see me, wars break out in my throat, on my tongue, and I throw up bits up china." Pause. He asks, "The country or the dinnerwear?"