It’s just... it's lonely out here. The world ended. Practically everyone we ever knew or loved was wiped out by a virus. And here we are, the last handful of human beings left on the giant blue marble, and I am locked in a box. We have all the space in the world, and I have about three square feet.
(He sighs deeply, resting his chin as much as the wooden board allows.) The_last_man_on_earth_2x04
(He chuckles nervously, but the laugh cuts short into a pained wince as he shifts his neck, nearly triggering the collar.) It’s just
I did that crime, I gotta do that time. C to the T. Classic Tandy. Practically everyone we ever knew or loved was
But I’m trying to change! I’m a new Tandy. I’m the reformed Tandy. I agreed to five weeks in this dog house instead of one! That’s how committed I am to showing them that the old, lying, ball-pool-diving Phil Miller is dead and buried. I just want to sit at the table again. I want to share a block of government-issue apocalypse cheese without feeling like I need to lie about who ate the last slice.
Citronella spray and electricity. A true sensory experience. Who needs five-star spas when you can have high-voltage shock therapy on a beach in Malibu? It's all about trust, guys! I get it! I really, truly do. (He looks up at the stars, his voice softening.)