Note: All words in italics are lyrics from the Pink Floyd album, The Final Cut, edited by me.
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Nikki drove home, high, and fell asleep. She felt terrible in the morning. She checked her phone for any calls she missed while she was high. Jonesy's number came up.
"JONESY! HE'S ALIVE!" she screamed.
She immediately dialed his number.
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Jonesy couldn't go on any longer. He was secluded inside a lone bomb shelter.
He was going to cut his wrists.
Thought I ought to bear my naked feelings...
Thought I ought to tear the curtain down...
I held the blade in trembling hands prepared to make it but
Just then the phone rang, I never had the nerve to make the Final Cut...
He answered the phone. It was Nikki.
"Hey, Nikki. Why weren't you answering your phone yesterday?"
"Jonesy, I'm not going to lie to you. I got high with my sister and turned off the phone."
"I'm not mad. Just a little surprised that you got high. Wait a minute; there's bad reception."
Jonesy exited the bomb shelter.
"Anyway, I called yesterday because I don't think I'm going to live. I wanted to say I love you."
"Jonesy...I-"
"Oh my God! Nikki - I love you so much. I'll see you in Heaven."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?"
"It's an enemy plane-"
A bomb exploded.
"JONESY!" Nikki screamed.
An enemy plane had dropped a bomb on Jonesy. He was dead.
