> … Zzz …
> Sportsy! Wakey-Wakey!
> I’m tired of slingin’ ya on my shoulder and lugging’ you around everywhere! Too many people done accusin’ me of assault or murder or somethin’.
> And you know that ain’t me!
> … Sportsy! Orange dreamsicle! Wake up!!
> Augh…
> Hahh? Whaddah hell…? Henry? Dave?
> Sportsy! Fuck, there’s my heavy sleeper!
> Oh, wow. How wondrous. He was in a coma, Willy. I sincerely did not expect him to wake.
> Naww! I toldja he’d bounce right back if you just gave him a few weeks!
> Normally this amount of absinthe kills within hours, Willy…
> Nothin’ could kill my orange baby! No god or overdose!
> Gaaah, fuck, put me back under, doc…
> I am not your doctor.
> Sportsy, you wouldn’t believe the shenanigans that happened durin’ yer coma! Scott v.2 sprayed me with a hose full’a bleach and I almost went blind, the bastard puppet nearly chomped every one of my damn fingers off while I was tryin’ to escape the hose, Scott v.1 was sprayed by proxy and lemmie tell ya he was PISSED about his suit— so pissed that he took me by my gangly neck and dangled me over the ballpit where I swear to ya, somethin’ nimble and sharp and hungry was nippin’ at my sneakers! All this suffice to say, Oscar recorded the entire thing and you can ask ‘im for it. I’d recommend it! Don’t wanna be outta the loop, Sportsy!
> … Henry…
> I am not giving you a lobotomy. It serves no purpose to me.
> Just this once—
> You are likely all rotten up there anyways. Disgusting, foul creature you are.
> It’s the least you could fuckin’ do for me, look— look at him, I don’t like him lookin’ at me like that. Save me.
> Save yourself. I am returning to my studies. Get him out of here, Willy.
> Yessir! Shall we take to my bachelor pad, Sportsy? New dumpster just a block away from the old one!
> Get your mangy spindly fuckin’ salad fingers off of me.
