‘ Excuse me?’ He curiously cocks his head to the side, hands placed to his chest in naive amusement, chuckling. ‘ You’re confused, I was simply reciting a poem…’ How awful! Was little Ernest watching snuff films? ‘ Uh, I’m sorry, but, do you think I look like a man capable of such heinous acts?I admit…I’m a little offended. I’m a COOL youth minister, Ernest. Not a murderer.’
❝Listen, I don’t actually care.It was a joke. I was being sarcastic. But I guess you can’t wrap your head around that,❞ he gives a ( classic ) roll of his eyes, staring off ELSEWHERE as he brings his vape to his lips. ❝That was a stupid poem, anyways. Can’t imagine where you would’ve found it. You should drop it,❞ as if JOSEPH of all people could murder someone. That was absolutely ridiculous, regardless if were in PRACTICE or THEORY or WHATEVER ELSE. Just because a dude could do a backflip while reciting the bible didn’t mean he could do anything MORE. From Ernest’s point of view, Joseph was sheltered in his OWN LITTLE WORLD.
‘ Shifting the Sands. Hotter then Hell. Upon her lips, teardrops fell.Through the serpentine flame, I screamed her name, but she never WOKE UP! ’
❝Points to you, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about, Mister Christiansen,❞ he shifts uncomfortably. Perhaps that was Joseph’s goal though: to make Ernest uncomfortable. Fine, then, two could play that game. ❝Did you fuck her? Did you fuck the corpse?❞ perhaps that was a bit too far, whatever. He raises an eyebrow, looking at him almost earnestly.
