I remember why I don't like this time of year.
[Residential ghost-talker is staring at the brown and dried cornstalks hay. He's been in here for almost an hour now, trying to find the other side.]
Oi! Anyone!
[A small little black cloud wandered toward him, too low to be a person. In fact he hears a meow. Insert scowl.]Go away cat. Unless you
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*That would be the sound a very loud, irritated Texan, also lost in the cornstalks.*
What is this, Oklahoma?! This isn't funny!
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... ask it?
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...
[Turning around to look at the cat.]
The way out. Know it?
[It meows again, probably loud enough for Nick to hear but he could think it's just Echizen.]
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... I take it that was the cat?
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Yeah.
It went off that way. [He points straight through the hay/corn. The cat didn't choose a path.]
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... well. Coulda gone better, but at least we're not stuck there anymore.
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Shame there wasn't a tool or something to just whack it down.
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I don't think it was meant to be easy, anyway.
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[At least that's brat's philosophy anyways.]
I'm staying away from this car.
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Eh, it'll change eventually...
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[He starts to open the door to this place, hopefully the train won't decide to keep them in since they cheated a little.]
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Patience is a virtue, kid.
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[Brat likes to do things and get them done. He walks into the next car, more than happy to leave the field behind.]
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*The car appears to be a lounge car, and there's a little fridge in between two large couches. Curious, Nick goes over and opens it.*
Want a drink?
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