I can't be blamed for kind of being freaked out after the whole Halloween thing. Seriously, werewolves? Zombies? This is the kind of stuff I'm supposed to only have to deal with in video games. I don't even like them there. Graveyards in my game creeped me out, okay? So does the weird death animation stuff
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He'd never watched...his show, although the bookshelf occasionally tossed a reel or two of Stargate Atlantis at him. He always ignored them. He wouldn't have gotten anything out of it by watching except depression and self-consciousness. The camera did add ten pounds, after all.
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"Um, I guess," I reply, shifting uncomfortably. I am almost tempted to turn it off, but it's to the point that I need to see it to the end. "Does this happen often?"
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He wished he was from a comic book. Except then he'd probably have to wear a stupid outfit.
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"It's okay," he said. "Legitimate question. No," he answered. "I'm not. I'm from a television programme. Science fiction, actually." He scowled.
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It's at least starting to feel a little strange, now that I think about it. After playing something fictional in my game for so long, finding out my entire life isn't real either is a little hard to swallow.
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"That must have been hard. I've been keeping quiet about a lot of people I recognize. I wouldn't want to be the one to tell anyone," I explain. It's not easy always pretending to be clueless as to what happened before. "I always feel weird when I recognize people. I've never thought that maybe someone feels that way about me."
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"You're not pretending not to know who I am just to be polite, are you?" he asked.
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I didn't want him to think I was insulting his, well, life either.
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Even I know I'm not all that normal.
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I'm sure he probably heard someone call me that in the show. I guess I ought to explain that.
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