She knows the rapist so well that it isn’t difficult to keep his attention. His favorite band is the Kinks, so she tells him that her favorite band is the Kinks. He likes winter and not summer, baths but not showers, hardback books but not paperback books. He likes whiskey, dogs, leather belts, escalators, and pocket watches. He dislikes mescal, cats, cologne or any other artificial scents, elevators, and wristwatches. The rapist is a man of unique tastes, an iconoclast. She tells him she likes or dislikes most of these things and he, in turn, tells her some things she already knows, like the fact that he was an only child and relentlessly teased. He tells her some things she doesn’t know, too. He is the son of a mentally unstable mother who was an addict, and he was raised by his maternal grandparents, whom he calls Mom and Dad. That’s why he doesn’t want children. The rapist believes it’s better to try to be good to those who are here now.

Their communication feels much more intimate than the communication they exchanged when the woman was herself. Resentfully, she starts introducing real details to see if he notices. After her own mother died of metastasized breast cancer, she dropped out of school and is a squatter in her sister’s house doing content moderation at the world’s most popular search engine. Her father remarried and moved to Florida, and mostly when she hears from him it’s a forwarded email from his new wife about her craft shop where she sells dirty-silly ironic needlepoint. One of her pillows has the cursive catchphrase “I’d rather be golfing!” above swingers at a retirement community having a foursome on a green while their caddies watch and fondle the clubs. Another depicts two cannibals enjoying a pizza with severed human limbs for toppings above the tagline “Meat Lovers Pizza.” The rapist asks when the two of them can meet. But if they were her stepmom’s cannibals, he witticizes, he’d ask when they can meat.

Unsure what to do at this juncture of the deception, the woman doesn’t reply for several days. Into the void of her silence, the rapist sends a lone question mark. She is about to decide to delete the fake profile, and then by some kind of satanic serendipity, Madison appears in her screaming panel. The video is called Madison because that’s where the scandal occurred, Madison, Wisconsin, but the anonymous subject has also become known as Madison. Madison is a female name. Her name might as well be Madison. Madison the video shows a girl passed out at a party as football players finger her and joke that she is so raped. A Madison judge ruled that Madison the girl was raped and convicted the football players of forceful digital penetration. Maybe Cunty could help them out with their search results when they get out of prison. Though the Madison scandal is ancient browser history, the woman’s outrage is continually refreshed. Last time she came across Madison, she had to go home feeling unwell.