On a scale of minutes, it's in about ten. On a scale of days, it's in about five. On a scale of years, it's next month. On a scale of centuries, it's... still next month.
"...Technically no," she says. "But I do know Chainsaw set him on fire and I haven't seen him since. Uh. Sorry. He seemed really happy about it, if that's any consolation."
"I bet he was. He's not telepathy-able right now, though, and I'm confused - he either went home without stopping in to say goodbye, or Chainsaw managed to kill him after all."
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