in 1947, a 15-year-old teenager named Kranshaft was talking to Wauleantra

-Hey, what are you doing

-I don't know, shall we go to a games room?

-no

-restaurant?

-no

-talk shit

-go to a party, perhaps?

-my father won't let me

-nonsense

-okay, let's go

After the party they arrive home again, but Wauleantra was "drunk", so when Kranshaft's father saw the boy's situation he thought he had used drugs.

-father?

-WHAT THE SHIT IS THIS TOMORROW WE TALK, I'M GOING TO THE VOID, HOLY SHIT

after he worked in the void his father took an m1911 and went home when he came into the room he said

-you know

shot him in the waist, one in the stomach and one in the upper right corner of the head