All Inclusive

This is probably going to be the world's worst memorial. And considering the whole of memorials across the ages, that was really saying something. The whole of memorials through the ages included Hitler's, after all, and there was no way that was anything but a really fucking sad affair.

Sad as in sad that there were people who likely mourned the Fueher. Not sad that he'd died.

Did Hitler even have a memorial? He should probably know this.

Either way, Alfie sincerely doubts there was dancing to music from the wrong Gladiator film, rubbish flowers— if Mitchell gets replacements from a garage forecourt, then Alfie is done— and a portrait that will likely look a bit like Pickwell died bent on vengeance and will somehow make her way back like something from The Walking Dead. Which she probably is, considering he might be to blame for the entire thing. He's going to spend his life haunted by the spectre of conservative hairstyles and pinched faces.

Though, they didn't have The Walking Dead in post-Nazi Germany either, so he's not sure if that's a point in his favor or not.

Rosie looks at him smugly with her creepy Pickwell hair as the students dance on-stage, and is starting to feel like this might be a bit of a losing battle, so far as dignity is concerned.

"To clarify, we won't be playing that," Alfie says, though the damage is done already, even as he shouts at Steven to stop the music and get back to work. Besides, he's due to help conduct interviews for Pickwell's replacement, as morbid as the idea may seem. He'll pop in there, pop back, and as Bob's his uncle, get this whole thing sorted and stop himself being haunted the rest of his life.

Only, when Alfie exits the gymnasium, the hallway he enters isn't the one he expects. In fact, it's not much of a hallway at all, or even part of Abbey Grove, unless there's a posh section of the school that they haven't told him about yet.

Or maybe he's died now. Oh god, is he dead?

His heart nearly jumping out of his chest, he rushes to the first person he can find, his eyes wide.

"Excuse me, but am I dead? Have I died?" he asks.