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Please. Come back for us.

There's no telling how long we'll be out here. Weeks, perhaps. Jerry says a month but, well, you know how he is. It's just... I don't want you to forget about us. Things make sense in there. Your life'll start to mean something. We'll fade away once you develop those, ah, priorities. By which I mean, well, you deserve it. To be frank, we fancied you from the start. Knew you were going to make it. I just hope you remember to come back.

My intention isn't to keep you, nor is it to instill concern for our safety. I reckon we can manage ourselves. I want, well, Jerry and I want you in our lives. Whatever that might mean. This place smells like ground-up goat spleen and with all you've been through, I assume your first reaction is to drink these memories away. Can't say that I blame you. But if you keep one thing, just keep this moment, here. Just grab a mental picture of me, between these tree stumps, grinning like a downs kid.

If you can hold on to that, well... that's all I ask.

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