Jun 19, 2009 22:36
[The communicator goes spinning across the floor as the feed clicks on. Then that horrible, dragging breath of one of the ghosts can be heard. There's a sudden clattering, a hiss, and -]
Get away, you skinny freak! Get away!
[The feed stares up at the ceiling while the sound of flesh repeatedly hitting something hard and heavy can be heard. Mrs Lovett gives strangled whimpers of pain. Suddenly, there's a very sudden crash, and the heavy thud of two bodies falling to the floor. The feed continues to go on over dragging, near-sobs of breath.]
Skinny... bastard.
ghost: attack,
ghost: in general,
thank god for small mercies