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> Call it Slagathor.



Debbie should be fine.

Image. Long shot. Part of laundromat near the dryers. The coin change machine says 'MEAT' rather than 'CHANGE'. The donation jar is now full of teeth. Bina and Lash are walking and talking.

Bina has lost all of her colour and is now drawn using the Hard Pixel Laundromat Style, she is integrating into the new dream, though she is still wearing the dress from the Kiss Dream Sequence.

Lash has not, she's still drawn fully in the Kiss Dream Sequence Style.

"What about Debbie? Debbie's a nice name."

"What's Debbie short for again?"

"Errr… I'm not sure. Deborah maybe?"

"Right! Hmm, not sure it fits."

"Well I'm out of ideas."

>I kinda like not-dog myself. Short, to the point.

"I don't know, none of those really feel right."

"What have you been calling it up 'till now?"

"I've been calling it the 'not-dog'. Because, well, it is akin too, but definitely not, a dog."

"That sort of makes sense."

"And I think I'd feel weird giving it another name, 'cause I'm pretty sure that it's actually Piotyr somehow."

"But it's the size of a truck!"

"I know! But there's this sort of duality thing with quantum particles going on. I'm not really following all of it, but I'm pretty sure that the not-puppy and my intrepid beagle-like companion are sort of the same person. Dog. Thing."

"So why not let Debbie catch up with Piotyr? Maybe them being apart is a bad thing. Maybe they have to do a full on Star Trek 'merge into one being' thing, and that'll fix all the shenanigans."

"I know! I've been thinking the same thing, but I can't just… I can't give something that trusts me to a monster, even if that monster is also kind of the person who trusts me. Even if that person is also a dog. You know? I just can't."

"Yeah. I know."

"I wish I knew for sure what would happen. If I did, maybe I cou - Hey! Piotyr, don't eat that. Bad girl! That is not good for puppies!"

Image. Long Shot. We see down the half of the laundromat that contains the dryers, the door to the office, and the back door. The television is there, but the static covered screen appears to have melted into stringy wax and been hung like streamers all across the hallway. Puddles of static drip from connection points and pool on the tiles. Piotyr is down near the last row of dryers. She is looking over her shoulder and has been drinking the static, her muzzle is covered in it.



Man. I am going to have a LOT of images to catch up on when I get home.