On the sofa, Bologna and Palmer each occupied one side, lying down carelessly, like two chicken steaks spread evenly on a frying pan. With the noon sun shining through the window, their bodies
It is emitting a sizzling sound called happiness.
As expected of the logistics department, they renovated the living room beautifully. Not only did it restore it according to the original design, but they also built a set of cabinets for the two of them to store the numerous video tapes that were piled on the floor. In addition,
In addition, they also renovated the entire house, giving it a completely new look.
Palmer moved his position and nestled in a very twisted way, "My own doghouse is comfortable enough, but I can't get used to living in the living room."
While reading the newspaper, Bologo nodded in agreement with Palmer. After being familiar with a place for a long time, it is difficult to leave. The same is true here.
"Speaking of which, did you go to see Wosselin after you came back?"
Burlogo put down the newspaper and became concerned about Palmer.
"Yes, I went to see her after I put away my luggage yesterday." Palmer moved himself back to his original position, reached out and grabbed a handful of French fries from the plate, "Hey, it's really terrible..."
"
Borrogo asked, "What happened?"
"I think... I think Vosilin may have some separation anxiety," Palmer said in a slurred voice with her mouth full of French fries. "When we met, she immediately dropped what she was doing and ran towards me with all her strength.
, it’s a good thing that I’m the one in charge, otherwise her collision would have sent me to the hospital.”
Boluogo recalled the first meeting with Vosilin. At the end of the memory, she locked Palmer's throat and dragged him away. Well, this development is very reasonable.
"Then I was obsessed with her and wanted to stick to me 24 hours a day," Palmer sighed ghostly. "Fortunately, I escaped quickly, otherwise I would have to spend the night at her place... She was almost there at the time
He dragged me in at one point."
Boluogo nodded expressionlessly, trying to regard Vosilin's slightly morbid emotion as an inexplicable interest between the two of them.
Palmer asked, "How did you come up with this?"
"No, I'm just asking out of curiosity," Boluogo folded the newspaper and put it aside, "As you know, Aimu and I have become close collaborators and a community of destiny, but this is the first time I have experienced
This kind of thing, so I inevitably want to find a normal control group to make sure that my emotional progress and relationship are developing in a normal and perfect direction."
Burlogo interrupted before Palmer could, "Don't say anything and watch more movies. Movies are movies, and life is life."
Palmer shook his head, "No, I didn't plan to say that."
He moved around on the sofa as if he didn't have any legs. Like a caterpillar, he wriggled to Bologg's side, looking distressed.
"Bologo, why do you think I am a normal control group?"
"ah?"
Boluogo was stunned for a moment.
Palmer put his hands on Burlogo's shoulders, with a look of sadness and anger on his face, "Recall my experience, do you think this is normal?"
Boluogo was silent for a while. He realized belatedly that Palmer really didn't seem to be a reference. Let alone the relationship between emotional progress and health. If Wosselin hadn't needed to respect Palmer's personality,
Will, maybe little Palmer is about to be born.
"Do you think that's reasonable?" Palmer asked.
Boluogo searched for a while, "Don't you seem to be enjoying it?"
"Part of it is really fun," Palmer nodded, and then added, "The other part is just accepting the reality!"
Palmer's voice became hoarse, "So how could you be so stupid as to use me as a reference group? Would normal people have such a life development as mine? It's impossible!"
"Then...should I choose someone else?"
Burlogo thought for a moment, and then he realized that besides Palmer, another reference group for comparison was Church.
Obviously, Church is not a suitable reference group.
"Don't think about it, Boluogo, there is no accurate, formulaic reference group for this thing," Palmer retreated to his corner, "Everyone's emotional experience is completely different, you can
I can only... I can only understand it myself."
"Have you had an epiphany?"
"I guess so."
Palmer wiped his hands, stood up, and pulled up the curtains to block out the sunlight. The room that was sunny just now immediately became dark.
"But one thing I know is that no matter how close the relationship is, we all need some space for ourselves. I usually call this space a garbage room."
"Huh? Garbage room?"
This was the first time that Borrowgo heard this word from Palmer's mouth.
"Probably it means a free space where you can completely let yourself go and don't care about anything," Palmer said, putting his hands into his short sleeves and digging into his stomach, "just like you care about your image in front of Aimu."
, I will also hide myself a little in front of Wo Xilin."
"I don't think they care about this kind of thing."
"Hey, they don't care, but they do. Just like when you are asked during the job interview if you are willing to sacrifice yourself for all mankind, everyone is thinking, I just come to work to make money, what are you doing with your life?
Ah, but when it comes to your words, you must be willing to sacrifice."
Palmer rummaged through the shelves, found a movie he hadn't seen yet, and plugged it into the machine.
“After realizing this, when I was a child, I built my own garbage room in a warehouse, where I could drink alcohol, eat junk food, read novels and movies, and sleep naked in the dark.
You don't have to worry about anything at all."
Palmer sat back on the sofa, "Can you understand this kind of thing?"
"I probably understand," Boluogo nodded blankly, and then said, "I can understand that the living room is your garbage room now?"
"Pretty much," Palmer then extended his hand, "Welcome to my junk room."
Burlogo glanced at the grease stains on the fries that Palmer had not wiped clean on his hand. After hesitating for a moment, he still shook it, "Should I say, I'm honored to be invited by you?"
"It's okay, it's okay."
Palmer waved his hand, adjusted his comfortable sitting position, and started watching the movie. After being busy for so long, he finally had time to enjoy it.
After thirty seconds of various logos of various studios, directors, and actors scrolling, the screen went black, then slowly lit up again. The film finally entered the beginning of the plot, and the two were about to fully express their emotions.
As he was getting into it, there was a fierce knock on the door.
Boluogo pressed the pause button, and the knocking on the door, no, the banging on the door became clearer.
The two looked at each other, and Palmer said helplessly, "By the way, the location of the garbage room must be kept secret, otherwise people will always disturb it."
Bologg stood up and opened the door, only to see no one behind the door. It was as if someone had played a prank on him. Then Bologg felt someone grabbing his pants and crawling up his pants.
Looking down, Boluogo was surprised by the arrival of this uninvited guest.
"Weier?"
Boluogo looked confused. These undead rarely leave the undead club, let alone move during the day.
"Something happened! Boluogo!" Weier climbed onto Boluogo's shoulder and meowed non-stop, "Something happened to the Immortal Club!"
Club of the Immortal? Something happened?
It is said to be a club, a nursing home, and a refuge, but in Bolog's view, it is actually no different from the legendary Hall of Valor. In the guest rooms are sleeping undead who have been stained with countless amounts of blood. They will one day meet
Returning to earth again for some strange reason such as paying rent.
Boluogo felt that if no external force would go crazy and attack the Undead Club, then the problem could only occur within it.
Almost instantly, Bologo understood the source of the problem.