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You pick him up and toss him into your portmanteau, just in case. Richard doesn't protest. You proceed then to strip out of your old clothes— rest in bloody pieces, white coat— and into newer ones: not <span class="mu-i">nicer</span> newer ones, per se. You don't have those. But they're equally torn up and have less conspicuous staining, so it's as good as you're getting. You batter down your hair, wipe your face roughly, shake a tiny crab out of your boots, and fling open the—
"Hello, Lottie. Er, I'm sorry, please repeat that. You do not believe you're currently residing in hell, defined as an afterlife where one experiences eternal torment, because...?"
"HORSE FACE," you say.
"Um... I-I-I..." Gil's pressed back against the outside wall, now, clinging to one of the ropes. "I-I would've said because it doesn't exist, but now I-I, um... I-I-I guess I'd say that the torment isn't eternal."
"Not... eternal." Horse Face is scribbling things down on his horrible little notepad with his horrible little crayon like he didn't nearly flatten the whole camp. And <span class="mu-i">steal your model.</span> "Could you elaborate?"
"Uh..." Gil snatches a glance at you. "Not really... i-it's just not eternal. It ends. That's all."
"<span class="mu-i">HORSE FACE,</span>" you say, before Horse Face can respond. "YOU— um— go away! This is <span class="mu-i">my tent!</span> You can't just— you don't have the right to speak to <span class="mu-i">my</span> retainer, let alone me, and— what are you even doing here?! What are you <span class="mu-i">doing?</span> Instilling filthy lies in his head, no doubt, and—"
"Good morning to you too, Lottie." Horse Face smiles genially, flips the notepad shut, and adjusts the heavy bag slung over his shoulder. "I was simply making my way back to my tent when I ran across my good acquaintance Ms. Fitzpatrick. You can't imagine my surprise when I discovered Ms. Fitzpatrick was indeed my old friend Gil Wallace, as I had remembered him... taller."
Gil began shaking his head slightly at 'old friend,' and he shakes it harder when you catch his eye. You fold your arms. "How old of a friend?"
"It's been about twenty years. Now, if you'd excuse us..."
If you socked Horse Face in the mouth, you'd knock that stupid grin off— and maybe fix his gap tooth, too. But that wouldn't be a good way to start a new day. You'll just have to plot less obvious ways to humiliate him, or... alternately, leeching some information off him would count. Definitely.
(Choices next.)
