-- Not ever. But Merle will have his day with Daryl. Those are my terms. Do we have a deal? Beth Greene

Jealousy. {snorts} Yes, however do I muddle through without feathers up my ass and incessant harp strumming? x.com/KenDollAnatomy…

Really. That's how we're spending eternity now? Competing to see who's the most attractive pile of rotting flesh? If there's a swimsuit -- x.com/BPRP_Beastie/s…

-- competition, I do not need to know. x.com/BPRP_Beastie/s…

.Rick Grimes might be an enormous pain in the ass, but he doesn't annoy me as much as some. He's tolerable. Worth a vote. Do it here. x.com/TWD_Awards/sta…

That was almost generous, Officer Walsh. Generous adjacent. From you. I need to go lie down. x.com/ReverendShane_…

He what now? "EATS PEOPLE. LOTS OF PEOPLE." {Blinking, he stared at the small radio perched on the corner of his overly large desk, --

-- idly wondering whether or not Metatron had to deal with this sort of weirdness upstairs, and if it was too late to bring --

-- .Shane Walsh back down to their side.} Okay. Why? "LIFESTYLE CHOICE. MAYBE WE DON'T JUDGE?" That's kind of what we do. --

-- "... TOUCHÉ." {Exhaling heavily, he flipped open the file on Gareth, brow arching at the man's long /long/ list of sins.} --

-- {whistling} Fuck me. He built this 'Terminus' place? "ONE OF ITS RESIDENTS." Ah. And people just walked right through the gates? --

-- "YES." Did none of them notice that 'Terminus' sounds a hell of a lot like 'Terminal'? "APPARENTLY NOT." {snorting} Dumbasses. --

-- {Resigning himself to the job ahead, recruiting Gareth to help retrieve what Jesse Custer had stolen, he gave a pleasant, if --

-- thin lipped smile and pushed to stand, head bowing.} Consider it done, boss. {Stilling, distaste flickering across his features, he --

-- looked to the radio and stilled.} I don't have to eat with him, right? Gareth

{sets anyone who gives . a hard time ablaze, just because he can} #EmployeeOfHellPerks

It's your birthday, Thomasina Hart? Excellent. Remember! Committing any of the Seven Deadlies doesn't count on your birthday. As far --

-- as you know. {cough} Thomasina Hart

Once again for the bookkeepers in the back. I run the ledger in Hell. I won't do /your/ fucking business accounts. We clear?

Well, hell-o there Simon! Your name is /definitely/ on the books.