Walter had looked up from his typing. “So this is like Fight Club?” His new old man had shaken his head. He’d asked, “Are you referring to the novel?” “What novel?” had asked Walter. His fingers poised above the keyboard. Talbott had smirked. “Hardly.” He’d said, “Fight Club was about empowering each man through a series of exercises.” His ghastly face shined with its coating of blood. “Fight Club taught each man that he had capacity beyond his greatest concept of himself. Then, it set each man free to fulfill his destiny: to build a house, to write a book, to paint a self-portrait.”
