“You know you really shouldn’t ring the doorbell that much on a Sunday. Even more so because of the Late Night Crew. You know we go well into the morning.”
Cry stands at his now open door in nothing more than dark sweatpants and his sup guy mask. The mask is seeming fused to his face, a many short gray circuit-like lines and patterns lay on his body. They look like they being at the flat gray circle over his heart.
“And dude, you could’ve called.” he says in a voice that still hasn’t caught up with the waking world.