I live in the American Gardens Building on West 81st Street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I’m 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself, and a balanced diet and a rigorous exercise routine. In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I’ll have a few liters of coca cola while doing my dailies in my MMOs. I can earn several thousand gold now. After I finish the coca cola I eat a box of krispy cream donuts. In the shower I drink another bottle of mountain dew, then a box of honey nut cheerios which are good for your arteries, and another half dozen donuts. Then I enjoy some peppermint ice cream which I consume for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always consume 0 calorie Monster, because sugar dries your face out and makes you look older. Then a hershey bar, then a bag of potato chips followed by a final bottle of of coca cola. There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman. Some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me. Only an entity. Something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours, and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable, I simply am not there.