'It's in the boy's capacity,' Mr Parkis said with pride, 'and nobody can resist Lance.'Naturally (I think?) this reminds me immediately of The English Patient, which we all know is the most depressing movie (though curiously, not book) of all time.
'He's called Lance, is he?'
'After Sir Lancelot, sir. Of the Round Table.'
'I'm surprised. That was a rather unpleasant episode, surely.'
'He found the Holy Grail,' Mr Parkis said.
'That was Galahad. Lancelot was found in bed with Guinevere.' Why do we have the desire to tease the innocent? Is it envy? Mr Parkis said sadly, looking across at his boy as though he had betrayed him, 'I hadn't heard.'
Where was I going with this? The fucking oil leak is depressing the hell out of me.