I'm not in prison.
This is a nice bed.
Mmmm.... What should I do?
Right. This calls for a laugh.
Hee hee hee... ha ha ha ha heh heh heh... no, no, that appeal is all wrong... B used to have a really good one. Zo zo zo... no, what was it again? Mmm... Kya ha ha ha! That's it. Suddenly it feels dated, though. Maybe it just needs a new angle. Kya ha
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[he stares at the phone and picks it up, glancing back over his shoulder toward the bedroom with some slight paranoia, but calming himself down slightly and replying in a flat voice]
It's the death of the world. I am dead.
Who are you?
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More importantly, the hell are you? The hell you people get off using my phone?! It pisses me off!
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mii. What are you talking about, sir? You are not dead.
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[he takes a stack of the pictures he pulled from the frame and holds it pinched between two fingers, dangling it above his head and tilting it back to stare at them again. Furthermore, he distinctly remembers having a heart attack, and all of his fingers are in tact from the fire, too.]
... Yes I am.
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... This is hard to believe. Nobody would resurrect me.
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hehn hehn hehn hehn hehn
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