Roland continued to walk through the desert, his legs like gelly, his throat like sand. He didn't care, he just wanted death's cold grasp to get ahold of him.
After two days, in the desert sun,
My skin began to turn red.
After three days, in the desert fun,
I was looking at a river bed.
And the story it told, of a river that flowed,
Made me sad to think it was dead.
I've been through the desert on a horse with no name,
It felt good to be out of the rain.
In the desert you can remember your name,
'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain."
Doctor Com shrugged, "Touche, my good sir. Touche. Anyway, Good morning Joe!" he said.