Stan got back downstairs. Immediatly, he started looking for Pam, to interogate her. Once he found her, he spoke: "How..."
Pam screamed when Stan started to talk. Appearantly, she didn't hear him come down. As if nothing happened at all, Stan asked her: "This might not be apropriate, but exactly how did Ginger die?"
Pam was about to answer, but tears erupted shortly before she did: "Brigitte killed her!"
"Always blaming someone else." Ginger remarked, "That bitch!"
Stan, thinking there may be some truth to Ginger's words, started: "Come on. It probably wasn't her fault."
"Not her fault?" Pam shouted angrilly, "I found them in their room! Brigitte was crying her head of, and Ginger... she was... she was..."
"Dead?" Stan thought he could finish the sentence for her.
"No..." Pam contradicted, "I mean... I can't tell you!"
"Look, Mrs. Fitzgerald." Stan tried to comfort her, "I know it's..."
"You don't know shit!" Pam shouted at him, "Get the fuck out allready!"
Still, Stan couldn't understand her reaction: "Why can't you just...?"
Pam had allready started to litterally throw him out: "Get out!"
Once she had pushed him outside, the door was slammed shut immediatly after Stan was on the front porch. He could still hear Pam crying out loud.
"Nice going, assh..." Ginger started.
"I don't need any of your remarks right now!" Stan interrupted.
He began to walk away. While doing so, something came to him: "Crying her head of?"
"Yeah! Isn't it 'crying her eyes out?!" Ginger said, though she didn't sound like she cared.
"No, I mean what can be so bad to make Brigitte cry like that?" Stan replied.