Kudo Shinichi was not one to swear. He thought it rather low to resort to foul language with a number of other avenues for expressing displeasure. Some of them are actually quite fun, and it was even more fun to watch others' expressions at their use. But there were a few choice expletives that really could not be avoided in his current situation, and he shouted them at the top of his lungs at the world in general.
StupidfrnggnMNGH! I am SUCH an idiot! How could this possibly happen! He stared down at himself, blood pooling under his tiny body, thinking that an out of body experience was probably not a good sign. Oh well, if he was going to be insubstantial, at least no one could hear him cussing like a sailor. He clutched his head in his hands. Sort of.
"Why me? Why me? This is something that happens to other people, not me! It- it's like a fireman coming home and finding his house burnt down! How the hell-" He looked up as his murderer walked back into the room. "And you, you! Damned sadist, how could you, I had a life! Maybe not the best, but it was mine!" The murderer ignored him, walking right through him to throw the murder weapon- a handgun and silencer- out the window. "Oh, sure, that's just great. Insult to injury, of course I don't matter, I'm dead!" Conan sighed huffily, seeing his breath in a faint shimmery cloud before his face. He caught a glimpse his reflection in a hall mirror, a pale figure of silver, vaguely smokelike, little wisps of his essence catching on an invisible wind. He got the feeling that if most anyone looked, they would not see him. It's going to be awfully hard, he thought, To solve my own murder.
