Alan shrugged and took the candle, first putting a cereal bowl under it and shoved it into the microwave for about ten minutes, figuring he could keep an eye on it. "I figure if the fumes are toxic, we'll figure it out," he said, returning the smile.
For the first time in a long time, he felt relieved. He didn't want to believe in one hundred percent. The worst thing anyone could do was believe something was over too soon, mainly because he'd already been down that road once, but that really applied to real life too. He hadn't been able to finish writing his escape from Cauldron Lake, or maybe he had. He didn't know. He just knew he was there and finally luck seemed like it was on his side.
"That was nothing," he pointed out. "Towards the end there, it was manifesting as three-hundred pound lumberjacks wielding chainsaws and dropping train cars out of the sky. You might wanna wax it in there as much as possible.
Sighing, he walked over to the fridge. After the candle was melted, he was done. Maybe actually done. "I'm gonna get a beer. You want one?"