Anselm seemed seven feet rising above Grimbald in his pummeled state. That is how the dead greet loved ones in this world. Grimbald was fast becoming lost with all the nonsense of King Cab drag drivers and verse bloated monster slayers. Diving into the sea of wasted dopers fighting mongrel propers of the legal code while guns are blazing equal rights to fuck up your life and fuck everyone, he was giving up. Anselm took his hand with a new message of hope and this is the part where all becomes a dream.