(The last storyline was kind of stupid and had continuity errors, changing some things about it)
Trevor is getting threatening.
"Listen to me, I'm vegetarian! No matter what I make, I don't have chicken!" I cry.
"Just another con of being a meatless veggiebag, huh?" he says, closing in on me. Is he going to hurt me!? I can't tell.
I look around, for a weapon. I only see some tofu patties I left on the counter. I pick one up in panic, hurling it at Trevor.
He doesn't expect the pro-veggie projectile patty, and it hits him in the face. Good, he's knocked out and I can rest easy. Apparently the cold had got in or something, because it was hard and knocked him over. He's probably unconscious. Wait, unconscious? Oh no, what do I do? Mike moans for chicken, now now now.
"Listen," I say to Mike, "I don't have any chicken! I'm a vegetarian!"
He doesn't listen, of course, but I don't blame him. He's sick.
He had come into my house a few minutes before Trevor. He had been out in the cold too long, under that tree and in the rain, and even though he knew he had a cold, that wouldn't stop him from rescuing whoever was in there. At least, that's what he mumbled to me. I tried to plead with him, to make a soup supplement with what I had, but he was adamant about chicken. If I left, he might have gotten worse, or something might have happened, so I stayed, but he was stubborn.
"Well," I say, "there's no meat in the house! Best I can make for you is some celery with peanut butter for a sick snack."
He caves. "Okay, fine," he gasps, exasperated. Yeesh.
Now, what do I do with Trevor? Should I lay him down? Yeah, but if he wakes up, he might attack me again. Geez, I don't know. My hands are shaking. I've only ever knocked out two people before, and they were trying to rape me.
I leap into the kitchen and attempt to make PB&Celery while I think about what I should do with him. I can't call police. The nearest town is half an hour away, and the few people who took the job of officers are too lazy to come all the way out here, take a body, then go back. That's what you get after the New World Order. Maybe if I lay him down, then tie him up? No, he might get the wrong idea. Um... I don't know...
Mike's stomach audibly growls. I pick up the celery and serve it to him. He says he has a headache.
Oh, man. I take Trevor outside. Wait, yeah! I'll put him down outside my house, and lock my doors. That way, maybe I can explain everything's all right? I'm not sure. It seems like the best idea now. I drag his body out the door, putting him underneath a tree so the rain won't get to him.
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