...then abruptly stops.
Dead silence.
"Please...", drones Charon, reverting to his characteristically dry and emotionless voice, "pardon me. We must have temporarily lapsed into a temporal nexus, and I took on the mental faculties of a hungry Australian."
"Tell me about it," our heroine says, and wondering when she'll actually be referred to by name. "That psychic trip gave me a killer headache! Anyway, I'm glad you're boring again, Charon. What's 'Australian'"
"Are you kidding?", asked Charon in his dryest voice yet, with no change in tone or inflection, "I don't even know why I feel thirsty just saying the word 'McDonald's'. Ponder not on these lapses, they are of no concern. You seek assistance?"
"Yes, have you seen anyone who likes peanut butter around here?"
The skull gazed at her from its empty sockets, and raised its skeletal hand...
ds