"I'll pay— for your stamp—" she gets out between laughs. Sinking down in her chair until she's almost disappeared beneath the table, she tries to get the laughter under control and sorely fails to do so for another good thirty seconds before it starts working. Utterly insane. God, she needed that.

"That's—" she clears her throat, bites back another wave of reflexive laughter that tugs on her aching cheeks, "that's kinda what I was thinking, yeah. Sam said the people that he met over there talked about Fear and the end of the world and stuff. And it'd sure explain her... everything, she was always so vague and weird about everything outside work."