Pheres looks different tonight than he did when you left. For one, he's wearing glasses, and it looks like he's actually got normal eyes behind them, all yellow along the edges and pink-gray in the center.

Maybe he got drunk and died, and now he's alive again? You've never heard about that happening, but you don't know shit about drinking, 'cept you know folks are always saying it makes you sleep like the dead.

You always thought it was a joke! But maybe they meant it literally.

"Thanks!" You bounce over. Telekinesis is off-limits, with Castor in his snit, but Pheres isn't that much bigger than you: four, five inches, maybe, which is hilarious, 'cause he looks old as fuck, white eyes or no. You do a quick horn bump, chattering away all the while: "I dug up all this shit myself!"

"Well," you amend, "not all of it. Like, hauling bones would take foreeeever. And if you move bones, then you gotta apoltergheist to their spirits, and that's boring. Super boring! Super duper boring."

"You ever try to make sorry with a ghost? 'cause, like, it sucks!"