Apr 28, 2008 09:17
[Slight hum of someone phasing into the flat.]
Don't look now but...
[It seems empty, he sounds surprised, then sounds a 'pft'.]
Well the undead must've gotten to this lot. I'll help myself.
[To that famous coffee--something trills in a high pitch, then a crash and struggle!]
SHIT.
[Whoosh, and the trilling squeals into the distance.]
You have a fucking pest problem, mates.