>>53-55
You roll another joint and ask Susan if he knows anything about Sirens and the magical pup.
"Yeah, they're right there!" he says, laughing and leaning back in his seat, the polygon count of which is rapidly decreasing. Your face feels square. The sirens are blaring in your head now. You are surrounded by mermaid cops shouting at you. It's overwhelming. You turn around to find the dog, cubist tail wagging erratically. You sit on the tail.

>>56,58
"FUCK YOU ALL! GO TO HELL!" you scream. You grab a fishing rod and cast it randomly at the Sirens haunting you. They just chuckle and dodge.

>>52
Fuck this shit. You're out of here. You march out of the lobby and somehow manage to find the bus stop. As soon as you get home, you open the dishwasher to find everything miraculously clean, no coffee or blood stains. The knife and coffee pot are still there, so you take the knife and go to stab your husband, who is still rotting in the bedroom, a few more times.

>>57
You try to drag the body to your trunk so you can drive it to a copse, but your businessstrength isn't high enough. You manage to drag him out of bed but can't get him out the door. You collapse to the floor, exhausted. You fall asleep.

DAY 2
Good morning, it's 8AM.
Now what are you gonna do, Freddy?