Burning Down the House

JOHN: haha, there's nothing to say.

JOHN: it's the scrap book of some one i've never met, featuring people i've only met a few days ago.

JOHN: they're similar to the real-

JOHN: i mean. the versions of themselves i lived with but...

JOHN: besides! if i never lost it, and vriska never died, there's probably SOOOOOOOO much stuff about vriska in there.

JOHN: hahaha. you can't really tell i said that with eight o's.

JOHN: that'd be embarrassing as heck.

JANE: I don't know very much about Vriska, so I can't say much...

JOHN: consider yourself lucky!

JOHN: or don't, because luck was kind of her thing.

JOHN: i kind of had a crush on her, and she maybe had a crush on me?

JOHN: but between you and me maybe she was just using me to learn about human things? like nicolas cage and shaving.

JOHN: and how murder is wrong.

JANE: She was nice to me, the times we talked.

JOHN: what did she want from you??

JANE: Nothing, really! At least from what I could tell...

JANE: She insisted on calling herself my guide, and that she was replacing a stupid purple clown.

JANE: Who she put in a fridge.

JANE: And it was her who commissioned the strange Dirk sprite to tear all the circuitry out of my head!

JANE: So, I guess I owe her for that.

JOHN: how's that healing, any way.

JANE: I certainly don't miss the constant intrusive advertising.

JANE: I suppose not being able to be puppeted around by whoever or whatever can crack into it is also a nice plus, hoo hoo.

JANE: It's... something. Sometimes I will think something, and my head will start hurting, like I've drank a lot of coffee before and am coming down.

JANE: Or like I've walked up the stairs in the dark, and miscounted how many there were, and I step into empty air.

JADE: how late am i????!?!!?!?

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