"Did we need to go anywhere?" The floor was just as comfortable as it had been in Tifa's room. Three of them could deal with any overgrown cockroaches. Going back through the Sun Room when they didn't need to seemed like a stupid idea no matter how much S.T. drank.
He'd already started stacking a pile on the floor. He'd grabbed another tray of water, and now he went for the bread. He pulled a loaf off a shelf and stared.
"What the fuck?" That was skin. Wrinkly balls and a dick with RAT tattooed on it, which gave a good indication of its owner.
S.T. approximated and pulled a box of corn flakes off the shelf several feet down, revealing Spider's forehead. Another box and his face was visible. He was typing on thin air, with a look of rapt concentration usually reserved for rabid dogs and computer nerds. S.T. waved in front of his face. Nothing.
"You guys see this? That was just vodka, right?" He didn't feel like he was high. Spider wasn't screaming or dying. Maybe he was real and S.T. was the hallucination. That made more sense.
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He'd already started stacking a pile on the floor. He'd grabbed another tray of water, and now he went for the bread. He pulled a loaf off a shelf and stared.
"What the fuck?" That was skin. Wrinkly balls and a dick with RAT tattooed on it, which gave a good indication of its owner.
S.T. approximated and pulled a box of corn flakes off the shelf several feet down, revealing Spider's forehead. Another box and his face was visible. He was typing on thin air, with a look of rapt concentration usually reserved for rabid dogs and computer nerds. S.T. waved in front of his face. Nothing.
"You guys see this? That was just vodka, right?" He didn't feel like he was high. Spider wasn't screaming or dying. Maybe he was real and S.T. was the hallucination. That made more sense.