Despite having all the means of save the trophy jar (flexibility, agility, and looks... definitely looks), Junsu decides to let the thing fall. The fragile container shatters upon first contact. The vile liquid seeps into the cracks and disappears, leaving a grotesque looking bit of shriveled up flesh among shards of broken glass.

Oh god, what have you done?! My lip! My lip from the kill in sixty-six! How could you?

Suddenly you experience the emotions of a rabid dog... all at once? And it is not a lip, dear. It is a finger.

What? A finger? How did a bottom lip turn into a finger?!

Jaejae... use your brain... or at least borrow Junsu's... the lip was obviously swapped out for the finger. Obviously.

Why? Why would anyone do that? The jar order is PERFECT the way it is.

What do you mean perfect? Your ordering makes no sense whatsoever. There is no pattern, no definite sequence... nothing at all.

I do not need the order to make sense. It has just... always been in that order, okay?

Junsu rolls his eyes and plops his down on the floor. He is tired. Dead tired... and sleepy, too. Are they going to argue all night? Let them argue all night. Out of the three hundred and six voices mingling in his head, these two seem to never shut up. He cannot seem to drown them out like he can the other three hundred and four. So... what is the best solution in this situation? 

Black out. Short and simple.

Sweetie, you will catch a cold if you sleep in the hallway. Your body needs the heat regulated table.

Oh. Suddenly, she wants to be a mother to something other than her precious treasures locked up in that vault? Screw it... he is knocking himself out right here, right now.

Turn the lights out. Good night.

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