INBOX

[dorkypantsuit]

CHANNEL FREQUENCY: 101.11011
DESCRIPTION: Basically he is always on the radio being obnoxious and looking for work. He will not apologize for talking nonstop to you.

MAIL BOX LOCATION: On the Ladder to Nowhere by his trailer door.
DESCRIPTION: A large kitschy maneki neko bank. Just slip your letter into the hole on the back of the cat's head.

Comments

[osteothropy]

I've never given him a reason to think any better of me.

I gave up on him and everything else.

[dorkypantsuit]

[Ah... Well, that gives him so pause.]

... It doesn't have to be that way though.

[osteothropy]

But it's not his fault if it is.

This is my problem...

It's... it was supposed to be my problem.

[Ugh, now he's making himself feel sick. He sounds like he's wavering.]

[dorkypantsuit]

Do you need help?

[osteothropy]

With what?

[He's earnestly confused by the offer.]

[dorkypantsuit]

Whatever. Anything. I want to help you.

[osteothropy]

[He's a little surprised at hearing this again after so long, but at least he takes it seriously.]

Just gunna waste your time, buddy.

[dorkypantsuit]

I don't care. All the time I have now is a bonus anyways.

[osteothropy]

If I don't know what to do how is anybody else supposed to? Half of it is in my head. I've been fucked up over this stuff for too long and I don't know how to do anything right anymore.

[dorkypantsuit]

Sometimes just letting someone else hear it can help.

I know that sounds like bullshit... But it's not.

My point is, at least I can listen.

[osteothropy]

[He's quiet for a little while, and then:]

Not when I'm drunk.

[dorkypantsuit]

But later?

[osteothropy]

I guess. Depends what sober Sans thinks.

[dorkypantsuit]

I hope I hear from him.