Ugh, tell me about it. Standing there with my balls to the wind while old Edith shuffled towards me? Not fucking ideal.

[ Wait, the dead? Ed frowns and looks down at the pamphlet, scanning the words. Chicken house...shark guy...oh, yep. Okay, there it is, he sees it. Zombie near-apocalypse. Fantastic. Good to know that's on the table. He'll just. Put that bit of information away before he thinks too hard about it.

He folds up the pamphlet again and tucks it into his pocket. ]

Me neither, actually. Closest I ever got was when they put me in this, like, pirate reform jail. Yeah, had a bunk bed and everything.

[ Someone tell him inns don't have bunk beds. ]