voice;

[paterelohim]

[With how much Chuck loves doing video post, the fact that he's sticking to voice should be the first red flag. The choked tone in his voice is another.]

Fred- Winifred Burkle. Has anyone seen her?

Her NV's offline, she isn't answering it.

[There's a long, sunken silence.]

I think... she's gone.

I want to say she'll probably be back, but I just don't know- I haven't seen it yet. God, what's the point of seeing the future if it doesn't help?

Anyway, I just- thought everyone who knows her should know. She's out.

Comments

[paterelohim]

[Time to pop out some ice from the teeny freezer and pour two drinks.]

Are you kidding? If I could write a whole book without anyone noticing, I could have spend years living a double life.

[He hands Gabriel a glass and raises his own to clink.]

Right under your nose.

[uberboned]

Except the part where you're about as subtle as a brick wall, Chuckles. [He clinks his glass.] Your idea of a double life would be Groucho Marx glasses and a heavy New York accent.

[paterelohim]

[He chuckles and promptly takes a drink, because that conversation just got a little real for him.]

Hey, if I can lie to the world about being a prophet...

[uberboned]

You didn't lie. You just appealed to the mass media to write your Gospels, you sellout.

[paterelohim]

Like you're not a sellout, Mr Brady?

[uberboned]

Please. I don't have 2.5 kids and a dog, unless you count Trauma and Claudio and the furry cow.

[paterelohim]

And the unicorn.

[uberboned]

And the mold creature. Basically, we're the Munsters, not the Bradys.

[paterelohim]

They were sellouts too, just... hipster.

[uberboned]

They were pretty underground. [Because they were dead.]

[paterelohim]

That pun is bad and you should feel bad.

[Another sip.]

[uberboned]

Keep drinking. It'll be funny in about ten minutes.