[There's another pause--the kind of pause that may very well signal the end of a conversation because one member of said conversation has mentally checked out. But no.]
Right, well...y'got...friends who can look after you? [He doesn't really know how to deal with murder victims who can talk to him. Or for that matter, how to be comforting to blokes.]
Chris has to actually leave for a moment and throw up into a luckily close-at-hand garbage bin.]
[weakly] Justin? D'you....what was that?
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What? ...Chris?
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I...guess you're dead, then?
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.....so....y'know y'were bones, then, yeah?
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[If Justin sounds a little hysterical... well. It's warranted. After all, he was apparently a pile of bones not too long ago.]
...What?
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Uh....yeah. You...started out as bones, like, and...th--then the...rest of you...formed onto it.
D'you remember anything about what happened?
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I don't.
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[There's another pause--the kind of pause that may very well signal the end of a conversation because one member of said conversation has mentally checked out. But no.]
Did anyone else die?
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...y'alright?
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...I don't know.
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Right, well...y'got...friends who can look after you? [He doesn't really know how to deal with murder victims who can talk to him. Or for that matter, how to be comforting to blokes.]
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[Fortunately for Chris, Justin isn't that great at being a murder victim. Things even out.]
I don't know where they are. Did they--was I missing? I work Saturdays. I missed work.
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