Aidan J. Reilly (

Well... let's pretend anyway, alright? It'll feel all weird doin' this and think it's not on th' right day. [ Once the fire pit is cleared out he reaches for his backpack, pulling out a rock he stole from one of the gardens. It's about the size of his fist and he carefully places it in the snow and sand by his knees. ]

Normally we'd do this with a pig... slit its throat an' gather up all th' blood in a bucket. Then one of us would trek out to th' old boulder in th' field and dump it on top. [ Another quick trip to the backpack, this time to pull out a carefully wrapped kitchen knife. ] Can't exactly do that here, so... gotta improvise.

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