Toby had gone to bed last night with the faint hope that he'd wake up and the voices would be back to the quiet background hum he was accustomed to
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"Exactly what I was thinking." Why that was apparently snicker-worthy, well. Toby wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to share that part with his roommate.
"Sure you're not," Stan replied. Because it was a sort of reasonable response to things. Oddly specific, but it could be a coincidence. "C'mon, I'll help you."
Oh thank you for that mental image, Stan. THANK YOU SO MUCH. The queasy look on his face right now had nothing to do with whatever the hell he was sick with. "It's only a little grey."
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"Should we get you to the clinic or something?"
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Like that time he tried to be a vegetarian and ended up with vagina sores all over because he was turning into a giant pussy.
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Full of holes, actually. But like that was gonna stop him.
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