You’re good at it.
“Can’t do down.”
“Nope. Up? I can point up at an Olympic level, but down? I end up whacking myself in my CN Tower half the time.”
“That’s what Canadians call their dicks.'”
Should’ve figured that out on my own. What’s going on in the world of the Dead?
Cool. Wait. It doesn’t seem to have a name.
“Yeah. We made the decision to stop randomly slapping snippets of lyrics onto the covers.”
Sounds like a time-saver.
“Yeah. It’s not like anyone calls the Cornell box Get Shown The Light.”
Is that what it’s called?
Tell us about some items in The Vault we don’t know about.
“Oh, sure. There’s a whole shelf of Bobby’s short shorts that suffered unfortunate blowouts in the middle of shows.”
“It smells like balls.”
I would imagine.
“But, like, a lot of balls. Not just two. Many balls. Oh, and I think there’s a pair of Garcia’s Zubaz in there, too.”
“They also smell like balls. Plus, there was an uncashed check for nine grand in the pocket.”
He did that. What else?
“The Bonsai of Cohesion.”
“It’s one of those ‘you have to keep the plant alive or reality eats itself’ things.”
Oh, one of those things.
“A lot of Phil’s home movies.”
“A lot of Billy’s home-invasion movies.”
Not as neat.
“He’d sneak into people’s houses while they were sleeping and punch dick.”
How did the people take it?
“Not well. Not well at all.”
Was Billy naked?
“Surprisingly, no. Liked to wear costumes. Spooky ghost, Spider-Man, whatever.”
The man’s a menace. Anything else?
“Duffel bag full of raccoon skeletons.”
“Y’know how Mickey has a duffel bag full of furious raccoons?”
“Well, he bequeathed it to the archives but didn’t tell anyone. He just left the bag in the back, and it’s not a regular duffel. It’s, like, kevlar or something. Raccoons couldn’t get out.”
That’s horrible. Why have you kept it?
“History is history, eh?”