[The morning after this log, someone walking through town might notice the crumpled figure in an alleyway.

Van Hoenheim is dead, as ironic as that might be.]

[So, still not having quite figured out the phone lines, 23 is wandering the streets, attempting to figure out what he wants to eat. Because even though he's never had a pickle before in his life, he wants one ( Read more... )

[Well, it's morning, the birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and a rather confused young man is standing (in his pajamas and bare feet) outside of 852 Goldberg Street ( Read more... )