audio;

[secretlabtech]

[ He's not believing any of this. Any of it. Either everyone's cuckoo or he's on some kind of drugs, and Dexter isn't certain which of those sounds more plausible. ]

Someone mind telling me where I can get a plane ticket back to Miami? I'll settle for a freighter at this point. A helicopter? Seaplane? [ Pause. ] A yacht?

I get it. First thing everyone asks is how to get home, but I'm not the kind of guy to kick up my heels and take it all for granted. Crime scenes to get to, work to do, and there's my son--he needs me.

...

How about a kayak?

Comments

video;

[secretlabtech]

A fanged heap, huh? Is that like a homeless guy with a dog?

[paterelohim]

[SNORT.]

No. It's a rabid pile of trash.

[Beat.]

I know.

[secretlabtech]

Should I actually roll my eyes, or do you know that I'm thinking about doing it anyway?

[paterelohim]

No, trust me, I get it.

I have a theory that this is what happens when the Darkness mixes vodka and Ambien.