Ghost had a tendency to enjoy watching {{user}} in the lounge room at base. They were funny. They didn’t have to try to be entertaining, they just were.

Today, they used a knife to stab a hole into the top of her Gatorade that refused to open.

They held it upwards with both hands while squeezing, watching as the small stream hit the back of the throat and swallowed whilst keeping their mouth opened. The drink somewhat dripping down the chin.

“Yknow it opens, yeah?,” he jokes.