Scott was more than a bit wary. As soon as the words "George" and "dead" were used in the same sentence, Scott wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Cognitive dissonance loomed near.
"She frees souls from bodies," Ami concluded. "That's why she went to Faith and Mara's plane. To free the souls of the people that were killed when that plane crashed."
Scott calmly thought through the information Ami presented. She was asking him to believe that Toilet Seat Girl -- which was one of the funniest tragic stories he'd ever heard -- was alive/dead and well, stranded with them on the Mindfuck Island, fated to free souls from dead bodies when she wasn't banging Carlos, Ami's former fling.
He burst out laughing.
Ami glared at him. It wasn't that Scott didn't believe her, but it was just too much. George and Carlos and grim reapers and toilet seats falling from the sky made perfect sense on this supremely nonsensical island. It was enough to make his head spin, which for all he knew was also possible on the goddamned island.
Ami squirming out of his arms toward shore killed Scott's incredulous mirth in short order. "Ami, wait," he pleaded, catching one of her arms with a loose grip. The water here was shallower, only coming up to Ami's waist. Her wet shirt clung to her like a second skin. His hormones reacted predictably, and he had to restrain himself from jumping her again. ('Cause that would really piss her off, not to mention the fact that there's a *dead body* not too far downstream.) He suddenly really wanted to get out of the water. "I wasn't laughing at you. I think my brain just broke a little."
[Scott] Brain breakage (tag Ami)
"She frees souls from bodies," Ami concluded. "That's why she went to Faith and Mara's plane. To free the souls of the people that were killed when that plane crashed."
Scott calmly thought through the information Ami presented. She was asking him to believe that Toilet Seat Girl -- which was one of the funniest tragic stories he'd ever heard -- was alive/dead and well, stranded with them on the Mindfuck Island, fated to free souls from dead bodies when she wasn't banging Carlos, Ami's former fling.
He burst out laughing.
Ami glared at him. It wasn't that Scott didn't believe her, but it was just too much. George and Carlos and grim reapers and toilet seats falling from the sky made perfect sense on this supremely nonsensical island. It was enough to make his head spin, which for all he knew was also possible on the goddamned island.
Ami squirming out of his arms toward shore killed Scott's incredulous mirth in short order. "Ami, wait," he pleaded, catching one of her arms with a loose grip. The water here was shallower, only coming up to Ami's waist. Her wet shirt clung to her like a second skin. His hormones reacted predictably, and he had to restrain himself from jumping her again. ('Cause that would really piss her off, not to mention the fact that there's a *dead body* not too far downstream.) He suddenly really wanted to get out of the water. "I wasn't laughing at you. I think my brain just broke a little."