[action, for 308 Miller Street]
[Sometime shortly past noon on Sunday, there is a black-cloaked woman walking through the door. As in, literally through it. She's unruffled, though her voice carries a tone of urgency.]
Grandfather? Grandfather, we need to talk.
[Also she is carrying an extremely sharp sword dripping blood and other messy body
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YES?
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Do you remember that time when you took a vacation and the souls built up until the toast started buttering itself and the corpses refused to stop walking?
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It's a bit like that, except with actual undead. More corpses and less toast. Also, these ones seem to be quite fond of mathematics.
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[A simple answer but that's quite troubling. He glances outside.]
HOW MANY OF THEM?
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[And he's suddenly holding his scythe.]
BACK TO WORK THEN.
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[Susan casts a brief glance at her bloody sword.]
...Right, I'll clean this up before I go.
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AND WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
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I THINK I'LL STICK WITH JUST THE ONE.
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[This is the kind of thing you say on occasion when you teach children all day.]
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It's something children say. Don't worry about it, Grandfather.
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