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You are surrounded by the decadence of evil, the hosts of hate, the demons that fill the mind with both hope and dread. As the devil writes the suicide notes of his clientele, he beckons for the hope to meet these denizens of destruction. As he picks up his quill from the inkwell from hell, he touches it to paper and writes the words that make angels cry blood, and babies make attempts at their own lives, all in the attempt to beckon these chucklefucks. As fate watches from her highchair, she whimpers, for she cannot understand, she doesn't have the same feeling that anything gets in the presence of puppetry. She can try to solve this ultimate riddle all she likes, but she is blind, simply to the fact that Evil is invoked whenever you stick your hand up puppets' holes or if you view from above their unending chaos. You pity fate in this way, she's much like you in this regard, although, diametric. You too can't understand something about these guys, but not in the "why does satan like these" no, you don't understand fate as why she even cares to dwell on such morbius* things.
Your father has too many puppets. He started collecting them when he was little and had his own little puppet show that he put on for the people of waterfall. Once he was 8, he couldn't devote enough time to create the plots for these puppets, but he still kept collecting in the hopes that eventually he would have time to make his puppet show real. He never fully did, but he did create a circus, and so every then and now, he takes some puppets out and makes them dance around a plot Shakespearean. You think those events are cute, but not your thing.
(*morbius has two meaning in this context. On the one hand, we have the movie, Morbius, which is a very silly and dumb movie that shouldn't be taken serious and shouldn't be analyzed. On the other hand, I also mean mobius, which invokes the idea of a mobius strip, a thing that has a single side, and therefore, you can't look at any other side of it.)
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