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Capital of Georgia, Atlanta, Peachtree Street.
The top floor of the luxurious Waldorf Astoria Hotel.
David Schafer had drunk too much, this even portlier kid, who didn't even wear dress pants, half his shirt buttons undone, and with round gold-rimmed glasses, had gotten even fatter than during high school summer camp.
At this moment, his face redolent of alcohol, he held a bottle of brandy that was mixed with ether or something else, stood in front of a huge floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the entirety of Atlanta, admiring the bustling night view. Raising the bottle in his hand, he drunkenly shouted to the city outside:
"I know what the world used to call me! Fatty! Idiot! Poor trash! Paranoid! Glutton! The white bastard with the smallest dick in the whole of Georgia! Fuck you! Look at me now! Those who insulted me, they're not even worthy to lick my boots!"
