….The piano also bursts to harmonic life as Quentin drops his fingers down with poise and focused intent, before casting a smarmy smile across to Nathaniel. “They say a man who knows how to drive the keys of a piano without actually concentrating on the keys themselves, but the music they play, is a man worth keeping in your life,” he almost sings as his fingers crawl over the keys like a ballerina performing the dance of the sugar plumb fairy. “It was my mother who sought the instrument out, hoping to break through my lack of social skills with a talent that encouraged that which I lacked, she was ahead of her time,” he says as he glances across the room towards the taxidermied remains of his mother, posed in full latex getup, including piercings, chains, and a conveniently placed whip. “A fool, but ahead of the other fools in her peer group. You see dear Nathaniel, I savoured the demise of others more than I did hers, and to be honest, I never really wanted her dead, it was purely circumstantial. I was angry and she was condescending in the fallacies of her diplomatic mediation into my anger, so I decided then and there to hang her on the wall with my other displays.” he triumphantly roars with wild wide eyes as he thrusts his fingers with a purposeful vigour into the keys, building his memento towards the ensuring crescendo…..