Post Log
Main:
SWS
"It fucking stinks of death here.
[Shushing you.] There, in the trees--
SSWS
[She's slowly waking up beside you.]
Surprised I lived to this birthday.
Normalcy:
SWS
[at a bar, enjoying a drink.]
{Working the grave-shift at diner.}
Sorry...
Have to cut you off.
You think I should go back?
SSWS
Dancing on bar. Only wearing jockstrap.
*Sternly* That won't be good enough...
[Her wedding ring's on the nightstand.]
Cures for headaches are a go.
I kinda wish we'd never met.
That's. It. No more blind dates!
It sure has been a while.
[Standing backstage, about to go on.]
Don't move while I'm examining you.
[Sneaking a cigarette outside a pub.]
[Shirt? Gone.] Alright, pants off. Now.
Not for sale, Monsieur.
Not tonight.
[Pen on paper. he'll attempt writing.]