Clay looked up with a flinch, half a sliver of meat still dangling from the side of his maw.<br/>Once upon a time his heart would have leaped in his chest and battered against his ribcage like a baby bird, today it just sort of â€¦<span style="font-style: italic">â€™thwlumpedâ€™</span>a little, squeezed and dropped back into its signature deathly lull.<br/>Dear. God.<br/>Sheâ€™d slipped his notice until this point, she often did, there wasnâ€™t an ounce of her flesh (if you could call it that) more substantial than a smoke sandwich. It was hard, therefore, to catch her in a room without knowing where to look and squinting to boot, but Helena, the longest standing resident of Satans Youth Hostel, sat curled up in a chair at the far end. Helena was a dainty, lithe little critter when you could make her out of the flailing pale. All bambi legged and sewing-needle wrists, a coiling fall of satin like hairâ€¦ shame about the second mouth on her head!<br/><br/>â€œBrains!â€ he snorted in disbelief. He shot her with an index finger posing as a gun, half eaten pack balanced on one bony, discoloured knee, â€œThaâ€™s prejudice giirrrrrlll and you goddamn know it!â€ he swallowed the last bite dramatically, hoping to gross her out, before one cock-eyed brow nearly climbed into his hairline, â€œYou run out of people to scare then, Boo? Getting a bit desperate if youâ€™re turning to me! Maybe itâ€™s because you looovvvve me!â€ he winked with a playful grin.<br/><br/>Neighbour Drake wandered in, bowl balanced in one hand. Clayâ€™s grin cracked about three inches wider all at once. What time was it? Right on time! Ha! Ahahaha!<br/>He shifted in his chair, lurching over the arm to watch Wonder-wings make his debut.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Hey, asshole! Thanks for the wake up call this morning!"</span><br/><br/>Clay cracked up, â€œMorning sweet pea! How much did we burn? Did we lose the curtains or what!? Iâ€™m looking to beat my high score!â€