I watched someone die. I knew he was going to die, but it took so long for it to happen. And meanwhile, none of the people around him realized he was dying. Maybe if they’d taken him to the hospital it would have been okay, but they didn’t do anything.
A couple of times he actually got out of bed, and that just made it worse.
After he died, everything was a mess. I had a new nephew named Ben who was about one year old, and he ran into the street. I ran after him screaming “Ben! Ben!” and was able to catch up to him.
Then some terrorists shot these guys who worked at a radio station for saying bad things about them, but the radio guys shoved a container of gasoline at them as they tried to escape, and Dad’s workshop went up in flames. I had to use Hairy’s body as a shield from the explosion, and I hated myself.