“It’s really over,” Matt says, eyes red and white and blue all over, overslept and over-worked. “It’s really over, isn’t it? Over, US. It’s really over.”

“Well, if it’s over, did it ever really begin? And if it never began, who’s to say it ever existed? If you, or me, or your mother, or even your dog, if we weren’t born, how could we die? Death isn’t scary if it isn’t real. If we were never real, we can never die. Therefore death has to mean we lived. And did we live? Did we ever begin, because all good beginnings have good endings, even if they’re a little bit disappointing. Even Napoleon had an exciting ending. Exile to an island, shameful, yes, but memorable, noticed by everyone, noticed by us today, noticed by them yesterday, noticed by you all tomorrow. If we are to have an ending, now, it means that we started, and that we started well or badly. I like to think we started well. Well, at first, then maybe turning somewhat into a cheap cake sort of thing, pretty on the inside and gross on the inside, or a J-Lo marriage, all good until it’s not. Is it not? Are you not, Matt? Are you knot, Matt? Tie it all together, and what do you get? What happens when you slice that same cake in half, and there are no crumbs? Crumbs, Matt, crumbs. We are crumbs. Or are we the cake? Are we the icing? Or are we the marzipan? Or are we the cake mix? Or are we the cardboard box? Or are we the recipe on the cardboard box? Or are we the ingredients on the cardboard box? Or are we the 0% trans fat on the cardboard box? Are we the 5 grams of sugar everyone claims to forget? Matthew, darling, all good things come to an end. And if things are truly good, they won’t end. At least not in an oven.”

“Casey, the US lost the World Cup game to Spain. Wait, why did that sound so smooth? Casey, have you been practicing that? Casey, where are you going? Casey? What about the cake, Casey?" Finally, a fleeting cry. "You know I don't know how to bake!"