|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| Pity that my flight collided with The Gathering and all. Don't feel pressured into coming with us, we'll manage without you. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Dun' say a flight collided with TG, that party's scary enough without the bomb threat! Oh, and no pressure. I'm not coming. It's The Gathering! | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| You could at least pretend you're sorry you'll miss the trip. | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| Oh, right. I'm sorry I'll miss colliding with the ground at 400 miles per hour. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHH! Oh GOD! GET ME DOWN FROM HERE!
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Back already? Where's Dill? | |
| | |
|
 |
| | |
| Curiously enough, he's dangling from a hot, lit ceiling lamp by his testicles. | |
| | |
|
|
|
