On the observation of evil and the escapism of oneiromancy

I appeal to you, O Gods of Night!

I call out to Night, Hidden Virgin!

Abdullah Al-Hazred, «Necronomicon»

A washed-up squirrel surgeon was sitting at the table while Sandy went through the pantry. She came out. Disheveled and angry, she threw the alien, folded by an inept pile of overalls. Belkin, having intercepted clothes in the air, got up lazily. Shook up this tissue misunderstanding, straightened, and dressed. — Your hoarders are there! — Sandy pointed to the pantry. — Good. But don't do it yet, unless you kick me out, of course, — Belkin sat down again, just as impenetrable. — Sandy, I'm serious. No need for hints and artistry. You're just saying you don't want to see me. I'm leaving. — Yes, and get out! — Sandy shouted in Equestrian. She, feeling everything swam in her eyes from tears, rushed to the desk drawer and rattled a terrible knife with a handle clumsily wrapped with insulating fabric tape in front of the squirrel dog: — Take your stuff and uhodi von! Tebe ploho, kogda ya ryadom? Idi! — Sandy... — What's «Sandy»? I've been Sandy for almost thirty years! Oh, look, silly Sandy is digging holes! Get away from her, baby, she can't make cakes at her age! Get away from her, children, she was rummaging through old things! Don't be friends with her, she's looking at dead bugs! She told the teacher about the bugs, and your picnic was canceled! And they dragged everyone to the hospital! Because some kind of «all – legs – out – croup» ebanul on the clearing of pesticides! — Sandy!.. Yes, Sandy, a fucking horse in three rows!!! — The squirrel dog abruptly stood up and, bypassing the frightened pony, went to the couch. — What are you doing? — The earth pony backed away, looking at the alien who sat down on the plaintively creaking sofa. — First of all, let's do it in my language, otherwise I don't understand anything. Almost nothing, — Belkin grinned. — Secondly, could you come over? — Why? — Pony was clearly going to panic. Invites the dick into the house first, understand what kind of creatures... yeah, what could go wrong? — Belkin, are you sick? — I don't know. But you have to tell someone. I'm not a pony. I'm not gonna run screaming for the Guard, or whatever it is you have... I'm a stranger. Sandy came. A nervously twitching tail and wary ears. As Valentine suddenly noticed, ponies tail was not horse-tailed. It was a long and flexible ponytail, just so sprawled that it seemed ordinary horse. — Do you... like weird? Well, twisted... — No, just sit down, — A male squirrel dog (Dog-Belkin!) patted the upper foot on the lower, near the joint. — And then, you know what to do. This time Sandy cried without words. Belkin smelled like soap and something incomprehensible. Strange smell of a half-predator. He was also warm as a pony. — Sandy... — Mrmrm! — Sandy, you know I can disappear at any moment. — Mrmrmrff!!! — I'm not a diamond dog, I'm not some mutant from the mad warlock lab... I'm a stranger here. — Pfft! — I have to tell you why I'm here... Damn it! Mare, how do you manage?! — Belkin tried to rip the pony off from himself. — Poke an ear in the eye! Sandy shuddered. She spun around dazedly, trying to examine the damage in the squirrel dog's eye. An eye like an eye. Dark, slanted, like a cartoon fox, a strange shade. However, the situation with cartoons in Equestria was not very good. — Tea's on you, — Valentine said, feigning-angriness. — Or what are you drinking there...

***

With an external old-fashioned habit, the stove turned out to be hellfire kerogaze. Really. The tank with kerosene was attached. There was also a terrible multilayer design, designed to combat the flow of fuel that can climb the vertical walls. Plus there was an additional hood. Judging by the smell, the unknown kitchen inventors did not. — Why were you in your clothes then and now you're naked? — Sandy opened the bolt, twisted the fuse of the burner, and took the lighter on the wire. Contrary to Valentine's expectations, instead of the cod discharge there was a barely audible flick of a flaming crystal with a wire inside. The pony lit the kerosene with neat touches, after which it adjusted the flame. — I showed up naked even then. They throw things at me in a drawer. Do you remember those green monsters with stenciled letters? — Yeah! It will be under the tools! — Well, sort of, yes. At least a piece of wool from a black sheep, and a box from a squirrel dog. — Two boxes! — There were three of them, — And seeing pony confusion, Valentin added, smiling troll-like, — But who counts? Sandy snorted and put the teapot on the fire. Instead of a teapot, she took a jug, where, after a short hesitation, she poured tea from a tin. The horse wielding at the stove caused strange feelings and a desire to get on the Internet about «how to make me let go, please». As Valentine had realized from the ongoing imitation of confidence, the ponies were not very good at food. — Sandy... If you're frantically trying to find something to cook dinner out of, then don't. — I... but… Sorry! — The kettle is not boiling yet, — Valentine sighed. — Sit down and don't rush. You know who I am, right? — No — Pony froze tensely, afraid to turn around. — I am a scout. There are suggestions that some events in your world affect mine. Bad influence. They sent me to look at it, — The squirrel dog smiled mirthlessly. — They sent it, so they sent it! Sandy exhaled imperceptibly, as it seemed to her. — The nature of the connection between our worlds excludes the transmission of large volumes of anything. I can not be more precise. And some of the stuff, as I understand it, is falling apart. So, don’t think that there’s a horde of squirrels and dogs behind me. Sandy put her front feet too neatly on the floor. In general, on the kitchen furniture and on the stove were such tubular rails «under the old». Not for towel, not for beauty or safety, as Belkin thought. It turned out, ponies on these things lean. Another surprise was the presence of almost human furniture. Apparently, when the pony sits on a chair, she does not need to think whether her hind legs stick out too far. And on top of that, they're probably trying to protect their limbs from injury. — I didn't think of that... — Then why these panic attacks? — I didn't... it wasn't an attack! — You're scared, — Valentine sighed again. — Have I offended you? Scared you? You can't stand me, but you don't want to kick me out. — It is, — Sandy got lost in words again, awkwardly turning to the alien, — Even scarier without you. The hissing kettle snorted and whistled. Pony, using the excuse, rushed to make tea. As Belkin understood, Sandy did not make a separate brew, steamed everything in this jug. Pony did not practice any rinsing of the kettle with boiling water, draining the first portion of water and other delights. On the table were placed heavy cups. Too flat, coarse molding, with a handle in the form of something like a human ear, without a hole. Apparently, this is more comfortable. The color was orange, with white peas. And in general, this coarseness and some fluffy dishes added some coziness. — Tell me about yourself? — I'm... just a pony. Earthly. Looking for... old rarities. Writing... speakers? I get paid. Belkin nodded. He said: «Let me help» — and got up to move the pitcher on the table. It waited for the pony to put out an unruly treat. Rye bread. Some jam or confiture (Valentine did not understand these varieties, it was not jam, so jelly). — I guess I'll try to guess. Just please don't panic and don't rush at me with my own knife. The sand-colored horse with the inharmonious coloring of its mane and tail, which sat down opposite the squirrel dog, tensed again. — You're looking for something else. I don't know what, but it's not that illegal, it's just dangerous finds. I'm not sure if these are artifacts, sacred symbols of peoples, or treasures. Rather, you're looking for signs of deposits of ores, minerals, or some other fossils. Something that will give someone a lot of money and power. Am I right? And such knowledge is dangerous for the one who found out first, if the one who found out is not the head of a mining company. — I... not really... I'm not looking that deep, — The horse looked away. — My talent is to look for another way. — Hopefully not in the kind of relationship that usually exists between a stallion and a filly — Belkin recalled alluding to the «love of the twisted». — My class was in the Canterlot Palace Park. Me and the other ponies. Foals at all. And they left, — Pony smiled guiltily. — We lost ourselves in the park. I found a way. Another. I made a mistake, but there was a way. And the Mark is here! — My class was in the Canterlot Palace Park. Me and the other ponies. Foals at all. We got free time, but so as not to go too far. And they left," Pony smiled guiltily. — We lost ourselves in the park. I found a way. Another. I made a mistake, but there was a way. And the Mark is here! And now… I'm looking for things. The old ones, from the time of Stalingrad and the War with the Griffins. It can be interesting there. I'm looking at how it works. I sell a drawing or an item. When you go to look for the old, there are often things of another time there. From above. — Everything is clear with you! You're a real criminal, worse than the Sombra you told me about in the desert! — The squirrel dog grinned cheerfully, but became serious at the moment. — Sandy, don't you understand jokes at all? — Don't do that, — Pony asked very quietly and somehow colorlessly. — Did I mention that I'm a stranger here? Said. What makes you think that I can accuse you of something other than me? Calm down. Otherwise, it turns you from a scandal to a quiet panic. And from angry screams to tears. Is something wrong? — Have I stopped swallowing... medicine? — Medicines? — Yes. Doc said not to be too involved. And now here it is. — What kind of drugs? — And? Medicine? So as not to feel it. — To take away the pain? — But Valentine didn't have enough of a drug-addicted horse! — No. To remove feelings. Emotions. Just a little bit, and how necessary — no. I... You won't say? — Pony looked into the impenetrable eyes of the squirrel dog. — If it's personal, no. — I forgot once... I missed the time to eat this filth, — Sandy pronounced the word «filth» carefully, apparently it was relatively new to her. — And then I was sitting... sitting in the storage room. And I'm holding your knife. At the neck. I don't remember why. I was scared. — Sandy… Don't do that. Ok? — Okay, — The strange horse smiled, but the tension was felt, which the pony tried to somehow relieve. — What is «Mako»? — A shark. Well, a predatory fish with almost no bones. Just the jaws and something else. It is found in warm seas. Her teeth are almost smooth, without notches. Either they are made with age, or immediately... but the teeth are not everywhere on the blade either. That's what they called it. Valentine took a sip from his cup. Strange sensations in the facial muscles were attached. The face is not human, but a squirrel dog's. The tea tasted a little strange too. — Have you loaded your cartridges? — Belkin nodded at the pocket where he had hidden the gun. — Yeah! There's a form... a letter... a letter form! I bought similar cartridges. Yours have become completely bad, burst! — Where is the letter form? — The weapon is yours! There's a side! I remember. And the cartridges have such a letter form! How is it? Holy shit. The horse got to the same suspicions that Belkin had. These guys «from the other side» clearly put someone in Equestria before Belkin for quite a long time. It's enough for a person to get acquainted with the local arms industry. He may have experienced it, so to speak. Then they asked him to describe the cartridge in his own words, picked up a similar one, and made a pistol for it... Then there were ingenious tricks. How to accurately measure the caliber and length of the sleeve of a local munition, if there are no usual measures, and you are also not in your body? But nothing. Just remember the marking of the «horse» more or less similar cartridge and make the same one at the appropriate place of the weapon. And? And when you «dive» you will find a «psychosprojected» pistol already chambered according to the «marking». Belkin decided that he would ask Petrovich the appropriate questions. Then. — So, — Valentin sighed. — I believe that you were not going to sell the weapon. Yes? — I made drawings. I'm sorry, — Pony flattened her ears and said it all into the cup. — Is it a lot of money? — Not really. Simply... I'm... not much left now. — I'd like to take a look. Maybe I can tell you something. Except, — Squirrel dog hesitated, — What does the law say? — There is no law, — Sandy grinned, and also into the cup, — The law is silent. So Princesses can talk. It's scary to eat this. — So don't eat! — The stranger bared his teeth in a bad smile, but Sandy, as before, did not appreciate the «trollface». — I mean, don't get caught.

***

She drew well. A little clumsy, but thorough. Belkin begged a pencil and paper from the pony. She gave me some kind of notebook in a very large rectangular cage. Horizontal lines are more common than vertical ones. Valentine was loitering in the kitchen. Sandy went to the semi-detached second floor. She slept there. The sofa was mercifully given over to the abuse of a squirrel dog. The squirrel dog spent half the night staring at everything in a row, from the device of the stove and the heating boiler to the texture of the wallpaper with printed ugly faded plants. He examined the light bulbs. Something like those decorative incandescent lamps with an orange glow that are in all bars and lounges. That's what Sandy seemed to want. He thought about it and added a safety brace, as on AUG. He made the trunks a little longer. He thought about it and added a safety brace, just like in August. He made the barrels a little longer. Sandy said that the pony's gunpowder is different, gives bluish smoke and does not burn so much, the charge in the barrel does not have time to burn. The latter was revealed by the sparks. This nimble horse, it turns out, shot a couple of times in the basement, having previously put cotton wool in his ears. The naive hoofed didn't even bother to go anywhere. Although, where can you go here? Plains, corn and other silage in fields with dry soil, semi-desert terrain with wire bushes and so on to the horizon in all directions. Almost the state of Nebraska. By the way, it is necessary to clean the barrels, otherwise all sorts of different personalities shoot with abnormal obscenity, and then carbon deposits, lead, and the trunk channel more resembles the burrow of an eternally drunken mole. From the breadth of his soul, Belkin also drew a grenade. Pipe, threaded plug, screw-in sleeve for the blank cartridge, retarder tube, bracket, spring striker... Not the most successful design, but what came to mind. The device was supposed to be stuffed with something like black powder, but with wood dust instead of a piece of coal. Really wanted to get an additional volume of gases during the decomposition and gorenje of wood. Evil, of course, in its almost pure form, but he has no other source of money for Sandy. And there are already tame ones here... sorry, hoof bombs, don't go to Zekora. In the morning, he lay down on the sofa and covered himself with the issued blanket. Pony didn't have an extra pillow (yes, Sandy, stallions sleep at your place often, no other way!), rolled up a still wet towel with a roller. The horse vowed to find the alphabet in the afternoon. So let's try to get acquainted with horse speech. Already falling asleep, Belkin suddenly decided that the local ponies had nothing in common with terrestrial horses, except for some similarity in appearance. It's just that when he was peeling Sandy off himself, he touched (and how else?) up to her back. There's something wrong with the pony's shoulder blades. They are not paired, it is not a rudimentary joint... Are they sure they didn't have any six-legged creatures in their distant ancestors?

***

— Belkin, don't fucking wake up! Stay down! — What? — It is difficult to think, the emergency display is blurred in the eyes. — Lie and be quiet! Sleep! Your eyes are now to be torn apart — fly into the ICU. Just listen and don't move. If you need to wake up immediately, say a code phrase there. «Sterch lost a seed». Remember? Don't nod, asshole! — Sterch... lost... — Stop! Just lie down, now we will pick up the mode. And another time try not to die there. Everything, go back to the task. Dream. Just a dream. I also manage to hear that «this jerk there, no way, lay down?» A dream within a dream.

***

They went out at night. Twinkling large stars pierced the inaccessible clouds with light. Like sparkles through the traces of blue chalk on the same blue velvet of the night sky. If you look at the sky in silence for a long time, you can hear the music of the heavenly spheres. Not with ears. With heart. With soul. But Princess Luna warns against such contemplation, because something from beyond the starry limits can get into the soul of a pony. Or from the wrong side of reality. But strong-minded ponies may not be afraid... Not in the Badlands. Twi was riding in a cart. The large crystals extracted by the magic of the alicorn from under the sand and iron were imbued with the same magic. The cart barely touched the track with its wheels. — To be honest, it's still not convenient for me that it's like this… Maybe I'm using my feet? Isn't it weaker at night? — Twilight tossed and turned and tried to get out, getting scolded by Applejack every time. — Stay there! — The yellow earth pony even pushed her hat to the back of her head and followed with the turn of her ears all the suspicious noises of the princess trying to get out. To be honest, given the power of night magic inversions, it is possible to allow Her Ingenuity to stretch her hooves and even wings. A little bit. Still, Twi has to make it to the wagon in time, and then Applejack will throw her inside. — Jackie, honestly, I'm not a lame mare! — Okay, get out, — The earth pony wagged her tail authoritatively and stopped. — But to be around! — In general, in Mainhattan and elsewhere, ponies provide taxi services, rolling carts for a fee with those who would not like to go anywhere themselves. For example, if you have an outfit and it's a long way to go, — Rarity gave a mini-lecture, — Or rain. — I don't know. As for me, this is bestiality, — Apple Jack «rejected». — And more from those who are being transported. Twi, it doesn't apply to you, you're with us… — Almost sick! — Pinkie giggled. Fluttershy sighed and took off. Still trying to see where Rainbow Dash had taken it. The way the missile was put down the drain. Wouldn't get lost. Otherwise, she will get lost twenty percent steeper than it is possible at all. Twi gave pegasus a cunningly enchanted crystal with her, designed to shine and blink if anything. The nerd swore that her magic would work, even once, even with the next Blow. So she takes it as a blow. Well, yeah, she falls like a dust bag from around the corner. Okay, Twi got out of the cart, took off and made a circle of jumps twenty or thirty across. Admittedly, she's a terrible flyer. Even Flatty is ashamed of Twilight. Dash, of course, swore by the names of her Sisters that she would teach Twilight to fly like Wonderbolts, but... Rarity had already hinted to Fluttershy that it was time to stop with veterinary medicine and start reading about first aid for broken pegasi. Radhart has already been warned, and the money has been deposited into the hospital account in addition to the standard insurance, but what to do away from Ponyville or Canterlot? They walked slowly. The white unicorn was furiously casting an exorcism spell on the dark sections of the road. Someone was rustling. Or it was sand. Or not sand. Applejack approved of this, but not out loud. Flatty is almost ready to kiss this scum. In mandibles, chelicerae and pedipalps. Phew! The earth pony shuddered. Don't bring your Sister, or you'll go to the toilet at night, and there's something sitting on the lid of your ass and twirling your mother's mustache. The standard expletive addressed to sen did not fit this. You bet! This case is the most vicious of all! Twilight had just landed and was walking next to her when Pinkie said: «Look at the sky!» Applejack picked up the princess falling sideways and threw her into the «iron box». The sand creaked under the wheels as the weight of the young alicorn was added, and the magic from the crystals, on the contrary, was almost all gone. The faint dots of rare stars barely made their way out of the black haze of the sky. Some had reddish, almost imperceptible rings around them. Rar swore unaristatically and clutched her head. Applejack herself also felt unwell, as if all her guts had turned into ice rotten vegetables. It is unknown how long it lasted, but it ended suddenly, no one could even remember this moment. The nocturnal weakness of the magical inversion allowed Twilight not to lose consciousness. And get all the interesting sensations that she had previously missed «by absence». — How far have we gone? — Applejack asked Pinkie. — I don't know. No more than five miles, — The pink pony replied. — And this party is not too fun for me. — There's no turning back. There's Dash next, — Pony with the hat sighed. — Help me load the Rar and see how Flatty is doing. If we get out alive, I'll give our princess the whole croup. Daring Doo unfinished...

***

— S-a-a-ndy! Sandy! — Mrmph! — Hey, mare! You have an alien in your house, and you're sleeping! — Eh? What? — Sandy looked around frantically and blinked, trying to hide herself from who knows who with a blanket. — Do you have a toothbrush? — Hay! Belkin... Go put the kettle on the stove, — Pony yawned recklessly, stretching herself quite humanly. — Only expenses from you. — Wait a minute... And my brush? This one? — It fell apart. But I managed to make a drawing! I think it's good for ponies to accept this! — Especially some fillies, — Belkin grinned obscenely. But the kettle went to put. And did not see how the pony, except the human version, stretches in cat, erotic (hehe!) butt. Sorry, croup. The refrigerator found last night contained some small amount of incomprehensible products, including half a loaf of yesterday's bread. By the way, the refrigerator is quiet. Magic? Or blunt ammonia? The strange emblem of either the old «Quake» or «QT» in the form of a gear with a hammer said something vague and hinted. Yeah, the closet is plugged into a local moronic-looking outlet. So there's a minimum of magic there. Or not at all. As well as products. Go through the drawers of the cupboard? There was unrefined vegetable oil with sediment at the bottom of a glass bottle, as well as low-quality flour and salt. Considering what was in the fridge, including a couple of eggs... by the way, are ponies partially carnivorous? It'll have to ask. Sandy returned an hour later, splashed in the bathroom, washed her limbs, and, going into the kitchen, perplexedly put on the floor a flat-sided basket with a wide and long fabric ribbon instead of handles. There was some kind of fucking celery sticking out of the basket. — What is it? — Pony sniffed the air. — Pancakes. — What? — Tortillas. Thin ones. The grass is in the fridge. Not to expel insects? — N-n-no, it's for food, — Sandy looked at the rolls of flatbreads rolled up in uneven tubes. This squirrel dog mixed a young cheese (terrible filth!) with dill and put the mash in the tortillas. — Do you think these worms are suitable for ponies to eat? — Sandy dusted off her hoof and picked up the «product». — I'm sorry. I will no longer take food without your permission. It's just that you haven't even had a sip of tea, — The squirrel and dog hybrid clicked the latch, extinguishing the flame. — I wanted to make it pleasant. Is this some kind of cultural prohibition? Were there robberies in the old days? Am I acting like a mercenary soldier? Sandy, who had unknowingly eaten one pancake and was already holding a second half-eaten one, sighed: — Belkin... are you a complete fool?

***

Perhaps it was worth thanking the scouts sent to photograph the interior of the fallen ship for taking foragers into the team. They realized that the thick stuff in the tanks was once a fuel based on earthen oil. The coal of the abominable quality could have been left for later, but now a smelly brown slurry was burning in the furnace. It burned well. Chrysalis thought that the thick smoke from the oil might be noticed by the Keepers, and she was in a hurry. Moreover, we lost so much daylight while buckets of fuel were being hauled along the chain. The queen was already beginning to get angry when the discord wagon, puffing smoke and wheezing with excess air, moved from its place. Chrysalis had just gone to the upper deck to check if her subordinates had trampled on it, and then she was covered. She didn't remember at all who had dragged her into the cabin. After all, someone was nearby, sucked out the feeling of emptiness and ice horror, gave her a drink of lukewarm water with a smell of iron. The nameless one, from the scouts. — What's your name? — The Queen asked. — Knight Spirit, Your Majesty, — The subject bowed briefly. — The Night Spirit? — Chivalrous Spirit, Your... — Without a title. — As my queen says. It reads the same in the ancient dialect, but it is written a little differently. I don't know why my parents came up with such a name for me... Queen, would you like some water or refreshment? — Tea. A strong one, — Really, a Chivalrous Spirit, as Chrysalis thought, watching the filly leave the cabin for tea. Protects his mistress by virtue of his abilities and understanding. «By the way, why is the knight like the night in this old language that we all love to use for names and titles? — A question popped into the head of the black chitinous alicorn. — Is it because the ancient knights were all night robbers?» She was already finishing her tea (a solid brew!) from a terrible iron mug and almost didn't burn herself on the edges when the captain came in. — My queen... — What's up, Cap? — We have passed the right point. And we will continue to leave, as you ordered. Since that's the case... — Yes. We're moving on for now. How long have I been lying around? — In order. It's night now. And by morning we'll be a day's march away. There was another outburst, the crystals in the spark transmitter failed. — It's bad. As soon as we get to the safe mark, let us know. I'll decide what to do next. And this... Knight Spirit... Let her come. — Yes, my queen. Startled, Knight peeked in less than a minute later. — Were you lying next to me? — Chrysalis pointed to the crumpled second pillow. — I-I-I'm sorry... Your Maje... «Her Maje» silently pointed to the bed by hoof. Seeing that Knight Spirit is chivalrously stupid, she explained: — I need to lie down. And to have at least some kind of emotional background. You're lying next to me, I'm hugging you and recovering. Everyone is happy. Any questions? — None, Queen, — The knight timidly sat down on the edge of the bed. — Then lie down and don't be nervous. Contrary to rumors, I prefer stallions, — Chrysalis squinted at the tea mug, but decided to leave everything as it is. — Knight, what kind of sedition do you think? Share it. — I don't understand... How can the queen, — Knight squeaked as Chrysalis pulled her towards her, — Well, I'm talking about sex... She is the mistress and owns everything. And here... — And here they take possession of her, — Alicorn snorted at the back of the shapeshifter's head. — But there are excellent excuses: firstly, the initiator of the relationship owns it, and secondly, allowing yourself to be touched means that it is in your will not to allow it. And more... — Yes, the Queen? — In bed, I'm just a Chrysalis... Knight, when I fall asleep, don't go too far, okay?

***

She dreamed that the Mountains of Arimaspi were covered with silt and rottenness. That there is an epidemic in the Hive, and eternal autumn at the Canterlot railway station. Leaves fall right from the ceiling, cover the platforms with a bald carpet, the ring-shaped sun does not warm, and the buildings hide the horror of desolation. «They say the Canterlot Palace is overgrown from the inside with bleeding pony flesh. Birds flying through broken stained glass windows do not have time to peck unexpected meat. Those who have tasted this acquire double pupils», a voice said with a velvety tinge, as if in a cinema. Chrysalis wanted to ask something, shout, swear, as not every loader will be able to, but... «There is a night that follows the day. There is a Universal Night that is unattainable for you, the unworthy. And there is a Night of Reason. The Twilight of Existence before the arrival of the Elders». — Chrysalis! The Queen! — What? Knight, what's wrong? — You were shouting. I've decided... — It's all night, Knight. It's all night in this damn desert.