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His cross.
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It was my favorite, and he knew it.
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He gave it to me the night before he died.
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I got rushed out of there, I didn't even think
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to take it with me, and now it's gone forever.
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That's--that's the problem with this open casket shit.
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In what universe is seeing a dead person a good thing?
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Shit's fucked up.
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Come on, let's just get out of here.
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Oh, back to rehab, really?
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No, I need a drink, maybe ten.
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Then back to rehab.