I’ve always wanted to ask him a question. And not just any question! I’ve spent many a sleepless night, tossing, turning, sweating, writhing like a dying snake with this burning thought in my mind. I didn’t think I would ever find any peace until I got the answer, and now that he’s gone I have no doubt in my mind. But if by some sheer tyranny of will I could bring him back from the grave for just long enough to answer one single question- even if it in turn cost me my OWN life- even if God himself viewed the act as an abhorrent affront upon all that is good and damned my wretched soul to burn forever, withering in the dark fire of Hell for all eternity, I already know what I would say- “Where do you get all your ideas?”

It might be a script, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it were honest

My tired brain read “4 or 5 humans” and I thought that can’t be right

It looks like a fiddlehead fern