The flight from France to Hawaii had been long and dull, and Stan felt tired because he hadn't been able to sleep on it. It didn't help that now, when he needed to sleep the most, that he was suffering from insomnia. Getting up, he decided a walk on the island might do him some good.
When he came back he walked through the galley to find Wilhelm sitting at a table, reading a newpaper.
"Anything good?" He asked as he walked into the room unnoticed.
"The usual school shootings, cops raiding some meth labs, the worthless celebrity marriages, and the fluff meant to make you feel good," switching to a hill-billy voice, he added: "Yup, I've bin teaching this here croc to sniff out truffles since he was just a pup. Yee-HAW!"
Chuckling, Stan said: "I see. Well, I'll be in my room trying to get some sleep. Good night."
"Just to let you know, the Director isn't offering any more missions, I think he might have some plans for all the Ghosts," Wilhelm said. "Good night, you'll probably need the sleep."
"Thanks. Good night," Stan said, walking down the hall to his room.
Let's kill ourselves.