The head floated in, complaining. Of course, the head didn't return on its own, it floated in on the magic carpet that bought it to us. Persian, I believe.
"Not so aerodynamic on my own," the head bitched, spitting as he spoke. He wanted a drink to calm his nerves, but it just dribbled out onto the floor.
The body walked in hours later, banging into things as it came, no eyes, which only started the head bitching all over again.
"Where the fuck have you been?" said the head. "I had to get a ride back here thanks to you."
The body just sat there and said nothing, because it was blessed in as much it couldn't hear what the head was saying. No ears.
He just sat there and played with himself, which infuriated the head even more.
"It wasn't like I got the fright," moaned the head. "The crystal meth only blurred my vision and gave me thoughts I can't escape."
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