Jessica's body was a machine at the moment. Her right hand was picking up sugar cubes and plopping them into her mouth, and her eyes stayed fixated on Skyler's wings. [i]Crunch, crunch, crunch.[/i] Her mind was starting to introduce the idea that perhaps all the extremities in front of her weren't a drug-induced hallucination.

Of course, Jessica has the iq of a limestone coffee table, so this process abandoned the usual critical thinking that came bundled with having and existential crisis, and jumped between the two extremes of "Real" and "Not real".

It was then that the guide began to conjure illustrations mid-air to help her narration, explaining why everyone was reborn and gathered in anime starbucks. The brawler's fists balled up and began to shake with excitement as she saw herself in one of them. Her final moments played out for all to see. "I just got shot point blank in the face! Awesome sauce!"

             [hr]                                            

"Ma'am! Ma'am!" A Jessica in a lab coat approached another Jessica in a lab coat, their bodies being inexplicably well lit in their mushy pink office. The first Jessica straightened her back and spoke again. "I'm afraid Jessica has gone off the rails general, the realization of her death has driven her into a state of shock! She's in danger!"

Jessica the general fixed her non-prescription ornamental glasses and addressed her underling. "Jessica No. 27, tell me what happened the last time something like this took place." Number twenty-seven stammered as she recalled those events in crystal clarity.

"Y-you mean the Chuck E. Cheese incident?"

"Precisely!"

"We survived!"

"Exactly!!"

The Jessica-in-command adjusted her glasses in such a way that light dramatically shone off of them. "That's right soldier, we live and we ADAPT like WARRIORS. Now hurry up and get these trauma files placed inside her memory cabinets and ignore our evanescent existence as figurative representations of a dumb girl's subconscious."

With a firm salute from both parties, Jessica number twenty-seven shifted through the manila files, making sure to keep things nice and tidy. A file labeled "My death lmao" was gingerly slotted between others similar in appearance within the conscious memory cabinets, in between folders "Full House theme song" and "Gay thoughts". In the external world, Jessica was moaning and drooling like a zombie, ignoring all the conflict in front of her, hyperfixated on Skyler's wings.