Playing you now. Take a bow.
True to what he'd written in his journal only twenty minutes, ago, JD is in the cafeteria, eating macaroni and cheese with amazing hair (which won't last if he can't find a way to recreate his hair gel here). He's flipping through, said journal, with the box of crayons (the big pack, 64 colors) that appeared together next to his nightstand.
He's trying to catch up. It's kind of like reading a novel, except he has to keep reminding himself that all of this is real.
The angels, the demons, the people actually dying... here.
He really doesn't want to die so for now he's perfectly content to stay hidden down here where it's safe. Or at least, it feels safe and there's crayons and macaroni and cheese.
He's trying to catch up. It's kind of like reading a novel, except he has to keep reminding himself that all of this is real.
The angels, the demons, the people actually dying... here.
He really doesn't want to die so for now he's perfectly content to stay hidden down here where it's safe. Or at least, it feels safe and there's crayons and macaroni and cheese.