[Johannes Cabal, a necromancer of some little infamy, has returned to Adstringendum. He is holding the PCD at an odd angle, thumb half over the camera, the old police station clearly in view behind him. His face is flushed, eyes glazed, and he seems to be dressed in pajamas.]
-- not again.
[His voice is cracking and dull from disuse, and,
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Johannes.
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I must have been popular.
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[Typical.]
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[It's in his penmanship, but he's always so dubious of things in his hand that he doesn't remember writing.]
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Yuca Collabel.
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There's quite a bit on you.
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[Careful, measured.]
We were- well, neither of us is quite capable of having friends- but we were allies.
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Tell me, Herr Collabell - are you a hallucination?
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If I am, would you really trust me to say the truth?
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[He coughs - he's obviously feeling pretty miserable.]
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[THERE SHOULD BE A NOTE IN THE NOTEBOOK.
ABOUT YUCA'S AWFUL TEA-MAKING SKILLS.]
Tell me what there is about me.
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These notes are for me, Herr Collabel.
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[He sighs.]
Right. When can we continue our experiments?
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I haven't gotten that far yet.
Horst Cabal was here?
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