Dr. Whitten wakes from another of his blackouts, smelling faintly of roses... again. He wishes he knew why that was. But the blue pills... don't help with memory, but they do wonders for the headaches. And supposedly for the 'episodes', and he's currently with it enough to keep taking them
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Oh, and he's holding out a hot dog. Just a hot dog. The bun's in his other hand.
"Are you hungry? Would you like food?" he asks, his English slightly stilted and accented with something Asian. "You can have this."
He holds the hot dog out a little farther.
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"Domo Arigato." he replies with a pretty good accent from somewhere or other, taking the hot dog and eating half of it in a bite. Definitely hungry.
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Not to mention that the parts that went into the hot dog probably had nothing to do with biting in the first place. Hopefully.
"Um. You are welcome." Another grin and the boy takes a big bite of the hot-dog bun, loaded high with relish and onions and pickles and mustard and ketchup - all the veggie stuff one can possibly get on a hot dog. He chews slowly, either not as hungry as Whitten is, or just not in a hurry.
"Where are you going?" he asks, before starting in on his second mouthful.
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"Not sure yet. Where are you headed?"
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