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[There's a two-headed boy on screen. He's fairly big for his age. Well-fed. Robust. And he's dressed in a complicatedly folded toga. And he's staring. Both of him are. Just staring. Both of his heads are the same size, and the one attached traditionally to his shoulders looks particularly lost. He's attempting to duck behind his second head, which is at this point in their development slightly too heavy for its neck-stalk.
They squirm slightly. They are, for once, not in Scrad/Charlie's spectacularly consumerist room. They'd awoken there, but they have no idea why, or how it happened, or whose things those are, and they're quite sure that they are now in trouble. Because they're always in trouble.
Which is why they've seated themselves on the floor in the hallway and are staring warily at all of you, with your one single heads. Is this their punishment?
Good job. It's terrifying.]
((SPAM. They're on Level 3, in the hallway, being a tripping hazard. Feel free to run into them. Literally. They do not have The Shining.))
