Four teenage mass-murderers are having the time of their lives, and no one seems to be stopping them. Whether lucky or holy, they don't know or even care. They feel like punk godlings, on a homicidal road trip up and around the Northeast Corridor in the mid-1990s. It's suicide. The narrator, Stephen, chronicles their "wicked sojourn" as if his life depended on it. And it just might. He exorcises his thoughts and demons onto the page with reckless abandon, carrying a torch for his compatriots in their quest for more and more murder. They drive, then party, critique, and kill. They've already gotten away with the crime of the century--inciting a riot in their high school lunchroom and killing dozens--so just what do they think they're doing gallivanting around like this? Bobbing and weaving around Pennsyltucky is one thing. But downtown Philly? How could this happen? And how will it end? In Godlings, find out what makes these kids tick, or if they even tick at all.
Four teenage mass-murderers are having the time of their lives, and no one seems to be stopping them. Whether lucky or holy, they don't know or even care. They feel like punk godlings, on a homicidal road trip up and around the Northeast Corridor in the mid-1990s. It's suicide. The narrator, Stephen, chronicles their "wicked sojourn" as if his life depended on it. And it just might. He exorcises his thoughts and demons onto the page with reckless abandon, carrying a torch for his compatriots in their quest for more and more murder. They drive, then party, critique, and kill. They've already gotten away with the crime of the century--inciting a riot in their high school lunchroom and killing dozens--so just what do they think they're doing gallivanting around like this? Bobbing and weaving around Pennsyltucky is one thing. But downtown Philly? How could this happen? And how will it end? In Godlings, find out what makes these kids tick, or if they even tick at all.