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"I ha-haven't...." he said, sniffling. He blew his nose again.
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"Hey, hey, it's okay. You'll be okay. Everything's okay."
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"I-its n-not m-me I-im worried a-about..*sniffle*"
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"The who?"
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"V-Vorim..and Sketch..and their family..and anyone else out there.."
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"Hey man. Sketch is a tough shell to crack. He'll be okay."
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He eventually calms down after a decent amount of time (roughly 2 hours). "Hey, Royal, do you see an IPad-looking thingy anywhere?"
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"Nah dude, I don't see nuffin. Sorry."
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"Hold on." He checks under him. "Ah. Here it is."
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"What's that for?"
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"So i can rain orbital death upon the zombies. Be a dear and close my box please."
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[b]Royal closes the box, confused [/b]
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((End.))