Vordrak's heading for a Memento-style existence where he's covered from head to foot in tattoos reminding him that he hates Josh Moon, even though the beta-amyloid clumps disrupting his neural pathways prevent him from recalling any actual memories associated with his arch nemesis.
Ralph will be telephoning him from jail like a southern fried, Boss Hogg Machiavellian, claiming that Moon trained a flock of geese to migrate from Slovenia to England and attack Vordrak outside Poundland. And Vordrak will believe him because he is increasingly adrift in an esoteric landscape populated by baffling words and symbols, people who he thinks might be paedophiles, and barely-remembered Evanescence songs. Under Ralph's instruction, he will dutifully get a tattoo of himself being attacked by Canada geese. After a few years his skin will resemble a Bayeux Tapestry depicting the revenge fantasies of morbidly obese, redneck anti-buddha whose vanity will have extended to having his Giorgia Armani man purse converted into a colostomy bag, after all those Las Vegas steak dinners have extracted their dreadful toll upon his colon.
Such is the Internet.
