[The people on the fifth floor may have noticed that number eight has been busier than normal. But even if they hadn't noticed that, they might have noticed the not insignificant plume of black smoke which turned into white. No, no one has elected a new pope, there is now a home made sauna sweatlodge in Bob's cabin ( Read more... )

I think I have a son. Tall, blue eyes, dark brown hair... he's a Mountie. I... forgot him. And I think he died.  [There is a painful sigh and the line goes dead.

He's going to try and go over the side, someone please stop him? Mostly because I don't know what'll happen to him if he does go over.]