There is a Guppy sitting in a booth by the infirmary. The stacks of paperwork are a good thing to absorb himself in, to stop himself looking at the door or displaying unwanted facial expressions
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A cheerful, bouncy Sam is leaning against the bar licking a large chocolate ice cream with a distinctly self-satisfied air. Nothing, but nothing keeps him emo for long.
He grins. "Pretty good. I had a conversation with Buddha this morning: apparently our less-friendly siblings won't be having anything to do with sanity, let alone other people's souls, for a long time. Jehovah did indeed get to them after I did."
Beat, and a less-pleasant but definitely smug grin. "Harder to try to kill people when you believe you're a frog."
Yay contrast.
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Smiling, "Still grounded, then?"
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"Hey." A nod. "Yeah, looks like it."
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"Yes. Got to, um, get on with things."
He glances up. "How are you?"
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Beat, and a less-pleasant but definitely smug grin. "Harder to try to kill people when you believe you're a frog."
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"Unless they intend to drive you mad with the endless ribbetting."
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He smiles a little.
"I think only the frogs ribbit over there. As far as I remember."
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A beam. "But I'm sure you know what they like to do with frogs."
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"Oh yes, I remember. And they don't do anything other than eat frogs do they?"
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She doesn't, not physically, but that's not the point.
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Keep the conversation going
"Does she hop or crawl?"
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