"Lindstrom sounds a lot like Adam", says Francois.
"You mean they're both nephilim."
"No, I mean they're both batshit crazy."
"Is that what it really is?" say I, rather oblivious now to the half empty bag of chocolate chips sitting deflated and neglected and ignored next to me on the bed.
"What else could it be?" says Francois.
I reach for the chocolate chips and absentmindedly dig in my hand. They no longer taste so nice, a little strong and harsh now that the thrill is gone.
"Well", say I, "Then I also must be batshit crazy."
"Francois", says Carl. "Congratulations. You are the only sane person in the room."
"What else could it be?" says Francois.
"Maybe the line between mental illness and spiritual realities is a lot more blurred than we would like it to be..."
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