Soon, the weight of the weapons took its toll on his underdeveloped body, so he ceased his game and sprawled on the living room couch to watch TV. In minutes, he fell asleep and dreamed once again of young mothers weeping and bowing at his feet, begging for mercy. Had anyone else been in the room, they would have seen him smile.
Bobby Beller woke up about four o'clock with the mother of all headaches. He felt like puking, too. A look in the refrigerator revealed a half bottle of milk, a few slices of salami and cheese - and sixteen cans of beer. Of these he grabbed one, knowing from experience that the best way to cure a hangover is to start drinking again.
Bobby climbed the stairs to fetch his brother, who lay face down on his bed, soaking the sheets with drool. "Hey, bro," Bobby said,
