Thread:The Purpur Man/@comment-26173711-20191227223711/@comment-35455126-20200104020746

“Oh, no...” Flora said, horrified.

“Son of a bitch...” Rax murmured.

“Chekhov.” Glitch said. “Locate Jacket.”

“Locating...” Chekhov emitted a low whirring noise.

(I’ll let you decide if Chekhov finds Jacket or not, Purpur.)