I care for him deeply enough to pull him from his own story and into mine at the end of a show he was meant to finally, permanently die in upon its official airing. And yes, what he’s been through since has been messy, and painful, but hasn’t it been beautiful too? He’s made a family of his own out of the wreckage of an old cast, he has an apartment that he doesn’t have to worry about paying for because I’ve set that point aside as unimportant, he - ooh, hello, Spade. Good to see you, I’m trying very hard not to break your Puzzler right now but we should catch up backstage. Puzzler, that was your writer taking liberties with its ability to decide what you say.
[There's a look on the man's face. Something drained. Haunted.]
Thank you for caring for my boy. You're right. It's beautiful.
[He's begun pacing again.]
[The buzzing grows louder still.]
[As it becomes something akin to static in his microphone, the man falls to his knees.]
I... accept this. I have no choice but to accept this.
Thank you. For telling me these things. For letting me know.
And thank you... Spade, was it?
[A newly-broken man's face turns up toward the ceiling. His hands land on his knees, palms facing up.]
For allowing me the choices I have made, and... the purpose that I have found here.
[Perhaps there is no point. Perhaps he has no control after all. It's all a part of a narrative, is it not?]
[All of this was predetermined, wasn't it?]
And for the choice I have made today.
