Instinctively, Mark held up his hands in an almost defensive posture as Roger jumped up to scold him for his assumptions. Okay, fine. Who could blame him for asking, though? Though he was pretty sure Roger hadn't ever come up with any complete delusions while on smack, he could have found a new drug of choice.
But the more he thought about it, the more Mark knew Roger was right. Well, partially, at least. Because nothing made sense about him having seen Roger less than half an hour prior and now they were in the middle of nowhere. How? And more so, why? Apocalypse? Even if he believed in any of that bull, what would bring him into the fold? He didn't know the first thing about banishing a devil or Hell or whatever.
Mark didn't know what YouTube was. He didn't even know what Roger's computer was, to be honest. Oh, sure, he'd been on a computer before, he wasn't stupid. But even Collins' high scale, school-issued one wasn't as sleek or as polished looking as the machine Roger sat himself in front of and used like he'd done so a million times.
But the computer was nothing compared to the shock of watching what actually played on the screen. Oh, sure, he remembered the night at the Life Cafe. They'd have been turned away if it hadn't been for Angel's generosity, and that tiny reminder brought a little pang to his chest. But sure as hell, there they all were, for the world to see.
Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "I...no. That's just...creepy. Maybe someone just got a hold of the filming I've been doing..." Which meant Mark was much more accepting of time traveling than he was being a character in someone else's writing. But it still wouldn't make sense, because there he was, on the screen, camera in hand. Unless someone else was making a documentary that night, it was physically impossible.
"That...that's some crazy shit, man." Which was about all he could manage.