“Well be that as it may,” said Ethan, shifting his carcass in an exaggerated fashion and wanting to kick Crumble in the gear stick for wasting time, “I'm still uncomfortable so can we just get on with it please.” Not that I think it's going to work, he thought to himself.
Angharad had dealt the cards out in the prescribed order, so they were now ready to do, well, whatever it was they were supposed to do next. Imagine the sight. Four perfectly normal(ish) people, sitting in a hearse, playing a card game that may send them back in time. You couldn't make it up. Or could you?
“If I may enquire,” said Crumble. “How are we going to achieve the very same set of circumstances that our friends happened upon? The odds of it occurring again must be astronomical.”
“They are,” said Angharad, “but
