Turntables, basal metablism and brothers stew.

Dr. Alberight explained,
"Perhaps you can't hear me right"
"I can't get my hand around what that boys tring to say!"
"Yipper, Yapper and such, mark my tongue, looks like he's been a long ways off!"
"The gallent had particulars, per say, take for instance the Germans during WWII, took a pick, doctors death and all, and inserted it into the cranieal lobe, bobed it around like a pin cushin. Can't say why the boys so funny, no sign of hemarraghe, pin cushion and all, doctors of death, WWII. Perhaps he just took a turn for the worse at Old Millers Cabin."
Mrs. Martin tried to reason,
"Well I Geuss'in so, could have slide down Turn Pikes Tavern, ne reason to wonder otherwise, its that twitch in the hand that gots me a bothered."
Uncle Tom grabbed the child,
"The boy'll be just fine, just fine, in times I tell'in yagh."
"Just give the boy back his boxes and see what a stink he's in"
The couple and the child stormed out the doctors office.
"Just give him some time thats all he needs."

His rusty fingers lined the hatches on the metal box, he had been here before, many times, after the fall. This was his sanctuary now, the groans still came through the bag and it made his hand twitch, but the feeling was always surreal. He would have tomake his way back to the cabin after all was said and done, just a prick through the side of of the brain a few twitches of the hand and a was well, he was able to work with the bodies better that way, and it's placement could be similar to that of the owls golden eye seen in the moonlight. "Yes, Patty i found, sure did, a believer in you." he said as he lunged the crate against the wall and the maze he had created could be seen in the twilight, close to completion, he sang,
"Old Fry Tuck,
Should you come round these parts,
full of
Jelly, Jelly, Jelly
Shoulds Old Fry Tuck come rounds these parts,
I will tell him
Nelly, Nelly, Nelly
All rapped in clothes every crackin 'n' bones,
Old Fry Tuck
Where is your story to tell
In this old tree to bark!"

He awoke to sirnes off towards the East Coast, he still assumed he must be close to Florida, the smell of sulphur was begining to change to salt. He looked up at the cresent moon and played withthe box, he folded the dolls leg backwards, then folded it again, like a pengilam, he would be able to contort the doll into the box and he would practice this over and over agin. Fitting the body into the box, perhaps twas the fall down Old MIllers Cabin, again and again, the body would fit just right, into the box, he reached for the remaining figures on the dashboard, perhaps he would go mad tring to fit all these tiny figures into one box or perhaps he would just try again, much like the water underneath his eyes he should look forward.
Stop-
Rain clouds
Stop-
A movement is made in the shadows
Stop-
A detective has landed, his fur coat near.