Wrong Turn At Albuquerque

Declan’s eyes snapped open. He was still laying down, but the doctors were gone. As he slowly became more and more aware, he realized that the hospital was, too. He was stiff and sore, and wasn’t moving too good, so he just looked around for a moment.

The first thing he noticed was the person about to sit on him.

“Woah!” he yelled.

“Jesus Murphy!” Jeron screamed, leaping away from the couch.

“Sweet Larry, brother of Todd!” Kyle shouted as he fell out of his chair. Both of them scrambled back, as far away from Declan as the walls of their apartment would let them.

“Who the…” Jeron started. “Wait.” He turned to Kyle. “‘Sweet Larry, brother of Todd’, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah,” Kyle stuttered, his heart hammering in his throat. “The one time I said ‘Sweet Mary, mother of God’, mom slapped me so hard, I saw stars for an hour. Now…” He pointed at Declan. “Can we get back to more important things?!”

From it’s grotto, Death double checked it’s notes on Declan’s return.

“Aw, nuts,” it groaned. “Not again…”

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