Well, I'm alive, barely. To the owners of the Club Luna establishment, I'd apologise about the mess but it would have been worse had I not been there. More human remains splattered against the walls. I've sent you a cheque that should well and truly cover the clean up.
Turns out, anyone can pray to an angel. Even a demon.
To the (NPC) families, you have my sincere condolences. Lucifer killed a lot of people, but I got a lot of people out of that nightclub, saved a lot of lives. That should count for something.
[Aphrodite]
I'm fine. Don't be mad. I'm not at my house, I'm staying with Michael at his hotel. Not exactly five star living, but I don't really care. I'm healing up slowly but surely. If you could stop by my house and feed my dogs, that would be lovely.
Least he's got a decent TV. When I heal up a bit better, I'm going to spruce up the place.
It was a little embarrassing though. I passed out, and when I got here, I was pretty much cuddling up to him. I don't think he mentioned it. I already feel like Whitney Houston as it is, and he's Kevin Costner. Mind you, Kevin Costner's taller than he is. He's shorter than me.
Nearly got my skull cracked open like a walnut, that wasn't fun. But I'm a stubborn son of a whore, you know me.