When we eat at the dinner table and you try to join us, do you think you're one of us? Or that we are one of you? When you see your reflection, do you know that is you?
Do you know the concept of you, Falco?
When you bark at other dogs at the park, are you trying to scare them away, or find a friend? Is it lonely for you, Falco? Do you sleep to escape all of this, Falco? Do you dream? Do you dream about us?
Do you know the concept of us, Falco?
I sometimes wonder, when you attempt to make love to my mother's legs, if this is a statement of your adoration of her, or if, somewhere in that mind of yours, you believe her legs are one of you, and that you are one of hers, and if you believe that connection is enough to join you two together, you stupid, dumb rapist, Falco.
Do you know how happy you make my parents, Falco? Do you know how much they love you?