Oh, but here she is. 

Dear Andrew Hussie, thirteen y/o are not so short they have to stand up on their bed to look out the windoOOOH—

—OOOminuos as fuck.

She built a mausoleum for her dead cat?!?!? That seems a lot of money to throw away for ironic purposes, Rose. Just throwing my two cents here.

…… I swear this wasn’t planned.

There, you see. You’re misinterpreting. It’s a misunderstanding.

You can also make out a silhouette of the LABORATORY next door, a facility which likely broadcasts a strong WIRELESS INTERNET SIGNAL. 

The laboratory next door. She says it like it’s normal. The lights are on in there though, just saying.

You may be able to connect to the signal from a different part of the house. Perhaps if you seek higher ground?

May I suggest— 

— Oh, right. Too bad he’s dead. Maybe you can work something out with his corpse?

Well, to each their own, I guess. John had a book about magical frivolity and practical japery and she has a book FOR SUMMONING FUCKING MONSTER ABOMINATIONS.