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Red: “Twenty years I’ve been asking permission to piss. I can’t squeeze a drop without say-so. There’s a harsh truth to face: no way I’m gonna make it on the outside. All I do anymore is think of ways to break my parole so maybe they’d send me back. Terrible thing, to live in fear. Babble Brooks knew it. Knew it all too well. All I want is to be back where things make sense. Where I won’t have to be afraid all the time. Only one thing stops me - a promise I made to Tempest.”
Tempst (voiceover): “Dear Grubber, If you’re reading this, you’ve gotten out. And if you’ve come this far, maybe you’re willing to come a little further. You remember the name of the town, don’t you? I could use a good friend to help me get my project on wheels. I’ll keep an eye out for you and the donuts ready. Remember, Grubber. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping that this letter finds you, and finds you well. Your friend, Tempest.”
Grubber: “Get busy living or get busy dying. That’s goddamn right. For the umpteenth time in my life, I’m guilty of committing a crime. Parole violation. Course, I doubt they’re going to throw up any road blocks for that. Not for an old crook like me. I find I’m so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it’s the excitement only a free (and hungry) man can feel. A free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake her hoof. I hope the Luna Sea is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.”
Edited