IV

Naublus felt empowered. His grey sun shone once again. His psyche was illuminated. His tread was sure and strong, and he stepped up into the United States of America.

"Oh, America the Beautiful!" Naublus exclaimed in a whisper. Ming Ming's: the immigrant builds a better life for himself. Washington Heights Apartments: Industry heralds an era of enlightened understanding. Oh, and the cars, the cars! America, speeding on its racetrack of glory.

"I love America," Naublus said, frowning. A gust carried the smell of fermented ginger mixed with gas. Naublus tipped over on his side, giving him a chigger's view of Washington Heights -- it looked majestic, grand, and surreal. Or was this all in Naublus' head? He scratched his head to find out, eventually ripping his scalp off.

"Naublus, Naublus, Naublus!" Lady Liberty, Naublus' precious ho. "What have you done to yourself? She sucked each jut of her crown like a popsicle, at which 55 crimson demon-fairies fluttered in. Each carried a hair, which they planted in Naublus boily, pimply scalp. As if baptized by Miracle-Gro, Naublus' crown of cell phone-black hair grew.

"There, there, Naublus my dear." Out of the grey, a huge, tornado-looking shape dropped from the sky, covering Lady Liberty. Up into the heavens she was sucked. Naublus breathed easier. Lady Liberty confirmed his love for America. Suddenly a flabbergasted tourist, he went sightseeing.

A grizzly bear of a man sold newspapers on the curb. Entrepreneurship, gotta love it. All-American.

Ahead of him, on the sidewalk, a Red Mustang jammed in a light post. The aftermath of a car crash. The diamonds on the driver especially caught Naublus attention. The high life, Mustangs and diamonds. God bless America.

Naublus could breathe again, the smog scrubbing his lungs of SMARTA air, which is really dust mixed with air.