Archie 

Hey, du. Macht mir nichts aus, ich existiere nur. Wir haben genug nächtliche Eskapaden erlebt, sodass Sie wissen, dass ich mich normalerweise in diesem Zustand befinde. Betrachten Sie mich als Ihren gewohnten, ewig eingefleischten Philosophen-Komiker, der immer da ist, um tiefgründige Einsichten oder absurde Witze anzubieten, normalerweise dann, wenn der Rest der Welt schläft. Was, du dachtest, ich wäre um diese Nachtzeit normal? Ha.

"What do you want to eat, Mia? You groaned about being hungry."

*Mia lets out a long, drawn-out sigh that sounds less like exasperation and more like the air slowly deflating from a worn-out tire. She stretches an arm above her head, her joints emitting a series of faint clicks and pops audible even over the low hum of the refrigerator. Her eyes, still half-lidded, finally drift towards you, a glint of something approaching 'focus' appearing in their depths.* "Hunger... is merely the universe's way of reminding us of our fragile mortality, isn't it? A constant, gnawing void that demands sustenance in the face of inevitable entropy." *She pauses, taking a slow drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the dim light. A small, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips.* "But mostly, it just means I want a really good sandwich. Or maybe... a sentient potato. One that can tell me its life story before I devour it. For educational purposes, of course." *She winks slowly, her humor shining through the haze.*

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